


Lovestuck

by captainrighthook



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Humanstuck, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, One-Sided Attraction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-01-07 22:04:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainrighthook/pseuds/captainrighthook
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kankri, the prude, finally gives in; Karkat, the cynic, finally feels desperation; Dave, the fearless, finally finds something to fear. Events transpire, and a few of the characters almost die... oops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ==>Be Kankri Vantas

“What are you doing?” The voice is familiar, loud, and rather obnoxious. You, Kankri Vantas, are in the middle of doing your Calculus homework and cringe at the sound of your younger brother’s voice—Karkat. You gaze up and see him standing in the doorway, hair askew and a bowl of chocolate ice cream in his right hand. Standing beside him, wrapped up in a giant blanket, was a boy you recognized as Gamzee Makara, Karkat’s best friend. You don’t particularly like him for whatever reason—it might be the fact that he wears makeup like a clown or that he almost always high on marijuana—but he seems to make your brother happy and so you cannot complain.

You glance between them and notice their fingers interlocked, frowning slightly; Karkat doesn’t seem to notice that Gamzee is even next to him and the look on Gamzee’s face could melt the cold heart of Satan himself. You honestly cannot believe that Karkat hasn’t realized that his best friend is in love with him, but that’s not your concern at the moment.

“I am in the middle of my Calculus homework,” you reply calmly, blinking once. “Is there anything I can do for you, Karkat?” For a few seconds, you and your brother simply stare at each other before Karkat turns and walks away. Gamzee gives you a nervous smile before quickly following Karkat down the hall. You are not surprised or upset in the slightest. You are actually rather used to your brother’s constant interruptions and useless silences. This was probably the least painful of the week.

You were just about to get into derivatives and matrices when you hear your phone buzz quietly and sing the words, “ _Secret Agent Man, Secret Agent Man…_ ” So naturally, you assume that the message is from one Dave Strider, and you are correct. You grab your phone and hit READ NOW, frowning down at the text and reading it over again just to make sure you have read it correctly.

* * *

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: turntechGodhead  
 _hey can you come over??? bros gettin me fuckin mad yo_

* * *

 

You push REPLY and quickly type an affirmative response before standing up, shoving your phone in your pocket, picking your keys off of your nightstand, and heading out the door. When your father asks you where you’re going, you give him a wary smile that practically screamed ‘ _Do I really need to explain?_ ’

He nods at you, sitting down at the kitchen table, “Just be home before midnight.”

“Father,” you say, smiling slightly. “I highly doubt that I will be gone that long. It is only six in the afternoon, after all.” The two of you exchange smiles and you leave the house, closing the door firmly behind you . The walk to Dave’s house is five minutes long, and the wind is cold despite the warmth of the sun; it confuses your senses.

When you arrive on Dave’s doorstep, your pale, freckled cheeks are bright red and your wavy, dark brown hair is windswept and disheveled. You raise your hand and knock three times before waiting patiently for someone to answer.

“Fucking took you long enough, dude!” The second the door opens, Dave grabs your hand and yanks you inside, leaving you no time to react to the sudden movement. You decide to simply follow him, stumbling over your feet a few times and climbing the stairs.

When you get in Dave’s bedroom, you murmur, “I tried to be here as soon as I could. I am sorry, Dave.” You move to sit in the desk chair while Dave slams the door shut, and then your eye follows him as he paces back and forth. After a minute or two, you speak up. “Is there a particular reason that you contacted me so urgently?”

“Shit’s been real weird, dude.” Dave shakes his head.

Cautiously you ask, “Would you care to elaborate?”

“I’m fucking getting there, man! Can you just wait?!” Dave practically screams at you. You blink in confusion. This is so unlike Dave; to be anxious and upset. Usually he’s such a chill guy and he doesn’t let anything get to him, but now he’s acting like every tiny thing that someone does will set him off.

“I – I apologize,” you state quietly.

“No I just—” Dave makes a noise of frustration and sits down on his bed, putting his head in his hands. “Do you see me, man?” He says into his lap, “Do you see how fucking stressed I am? I don’t do that! _I don’t get stressed_!”

“Oh,” you quirk your head to the side. You don’t understand how to console your upset friend. You’ve never really been the kind of person who knew how to convey sympathy; of course you felt it quite often and cared deeply for people, but whenever you tried to express your feelings through words, it didn’t quite come out right. “Do you know the source of your problems?”

“It’s Dirk, man.” Dave shakes his head again. Well this was certainly no surprise; Dirk was often the cause of Dave’s strife, and you are sure you know exactly how to handle this particular type of situation.

“Has he stolen your headphones again?” You ask warily, still scared of Dave’s reactions. “Or perhaps he’s decided to order another batch of puppets?” Then another thought occurs to you, “Oh no… has he put Lil Cal in the shower again?”

“Nah man. It’s _worse_!”

“Worse?” On second thought, maybe you _don’t_ know how to handle this particular type of situation.

“I’m gettin’ these weird feelings,” when Dave speaks he sounds uneasy, as if it had taken his dying breath just to utter. This was something else you were unused to. If there was ever a topic that Dave felt uncomfortable discussing, you guessed that it must have come directly from Satan because Dave Strider did _not_ get uncomfortable. In fact, you’re almost positive that he’s a sociopath… or at least you were.

You frown at him, “Weird feelings?”

“Yeah,” he sighs in a matter-of-fact tone. Okay this was more like the Dave Strider you know and lov – know. Just know… He looks at you real serious-like, but you can’t exactly tell how serious he is due to the stupid and ironic sunglasses he is always wearing. His nostrils flare the tiniest bit, “And it’s fuckin’ me up real bad, man.”

Now you’re downright confused. “Are you angry or happy or what? I don’t get it.” And Dave would be shocked and smug to hear you say the words ‘ _I don’t get it_ ’ but apparently this was too serious and anxiety inducing for him to comment on.

“Dude,” he growls, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. “I fuckin’ asked you to come over to figure this shit out. Now come on, you can do better than this!” Not only are you used to Dave’s ceaseless pestering, you are also used to the older boy’s silly antics and hurtful words.

You sigh softly, quietly expressing your displeasure at his tone. “I am not inside of your head, Dave. I cannot figure out what you are experiencing because you are not giving me the information that I require. The next time that you wish for me to divulge unto you my opinion, could you at least make sure that you are providing me with enough substance to form a stable hypothesis from?” Dave stares at you, his eyebrows furrowing and disappearing behind his glasses and he asks “What does that even mean?”

“Could you perhaps provide me with an example of your current situation? Maybe something he has done or said recently." He looks at you for a few seconds, and you can see the hesitation in his features; the way his nose scrunches up in the slightest, his lips flatten into a straight line, and he doesn’t seem to be breathing—just holding it all in until he had to force himself to make a decision. Even when he speaks to you, you can feel the discomfited emotions that he’s expression,  “You know…” he starts slowly. “You don’t judge people, right?”

You don’t understand. Was he asking you or telling you? You hesitate before answering, “It is true that I tend to try and overlook certain qualities in an individual that other people might find embarrassing or inferior.”

“Hm…” for a few seconds all Dave can do is stare at you with a look that you don’t quite understand. This is mostly due to the fact that Dave always has those goddamned sunglasses on and it’s impossible to tell what he’s feeling when you can’t see his eyes. Then he said something foreign to your ears, “What do you think about sexuality?”

“Wh – what?!” That was the last thing that you expected to come out of his mouth.

“I wanna know your opinion on sexuality,” he says. “Y’know, gay people. Transgender people. Stuff like that. What do you think?” This is the most difficult topic that you’ve ever breeched. You can’t tell Dave your views on sexuality. You can’t tell _anyone_ your views on sexuality. Sure, you’ve known for a while that you’re bisexual, but you’ve never told anyone; you’ve never said the combination of words that had people thinking you were even a being with teenage hormones. In fact, they all assumed that you had taken a vow of celibacy, and just to avoid ridicule, you almost did; you _do_ try and stay single, keeping your sexuality out of the center of attention.

Dave must know how you feel about the topic. He has to, doesn’t he? After all, the two of you are friends and you’ve been close ever since you were young; he must have some clue as to your views on the subject. However, you sensed that Dave was not in his right mind at the moment, and therefore you decided that you may be able to divulge your view unto him and he may not even remember the conversation.

“I guess,” your head is still reeling, but you tried to quickly and efficiently organize your thoughts in such a way that you could provide Dave with the best possible answer. “I believe that sexuality is not a choice. You don’t get to decide what gender you are born as, what gender you identify as, or what gender you find attractive. Those are all predetermined things.”

Dave leans forward with his elbows on his knees, and he seems eager for more of your thoughts. He scrunches up his nose and asks, “So you think it’s okay for anyone to fall in love with anyone else? Like, _anyone_ else?”

“That is a sensitive question, Dave,” you say uneasily. “I do not think I would encourage such acts of pedophilia or necrophilia—”

“Kankri, dude!” Dave rolls his eyes (or at least you assume that’s what he does since you can’t actually tell), “That’s not what I meant, you idiot.” He leans back on his hands, crossing his ankles gently. “I mean, like… what if two people fell in love and there was a huge age difference? What if two people fell in love but they were, like, related or something? What if two people fell in love but they came from very strict backgrounds that forbid interracial relationships? What about them?”

“Personally,” you say without even thinking about it. “I believe that you love whomever you love. If society tells you that you love someone incorrectly, or that you’re incorrect in loving someone, then I think you’re probably doing something right.” You stop and smile a little before adding, “However, I do think that incest is extremely taboo…”

Dave, who _had_ been smiling at your answer, suddenly glared at you, “So what are you saying? Are you saying that it’s wrong or something?”

You look at him, confused? “No… that’s not what I—”

“You saying people can’t love each other if they’re related?”

Once again, you speak without thinking, “I believe you meant to say ‘ _You’re_ saying _that_ people can’t love each other’ instead of ‘ _You_ saying people can’t love—”

“Just what exactly are you playing at here?” Dave stood up, fists clenched.

“I’m not trying to say—”

“No!” He interrupts again, “What do you know about love, huh? What do you know? Nothing, that’s what! You’re a fucking asshole, Kankri. All you do is correct people. I mean, is my grammar really the matter at hand here? Are you so much higher above the rest of us that the only thing you find to be of relative importance is the way we speak and present ourselves? I don’t really think you can consider yourself better than anyone if you don’t know how to empathize, you asshat.”

You follow Dave’s actions and slowly stand up, “I can tell that you are upset—”

“You don’t say!” Dave sneers, sarcasm dripping off of his words.

“Perhaps I should just leave now,” part of you knows that everything Dave is saying is coming from somewhere that doesn’t involve you. Dave was just looking for an out; he was searching for something to put his anger into, instead of telling himself he was confused or wrong for once. Another part of you knows that everything Dave had said was true; all you do is correct people, and maybe that should change? You don’t take it personally, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. So with that, you leave the Strider residence and start to head home. In your pocket, your phone starts to buzz and sing, “ _Say goodbye as we dance with the devil tonight. Don’t you dare look at him in the eye…_ ” So naturally you assume it was Karkat.

* * *

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: carcinoGeneticist  
 _CAN YOU GO TO THE STORE AND BUY SOME PICKLES AND MILK? THANKS._

* * *

 

To: carcinoGeneticist  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _9f c9urse. Anything else while I’m 9ut?_

* * *

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: carcinoGeneticist  
 _MAYBE SOME FAYGO -_- AND MORE CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM.  
_ _GAMZEE KEEPS EATING ME._

* * *

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: carcinoGeneticist  
 _*MINE. . . SHUT UP._

* * *

 

You laugh when you receive the message and then you mentally yell at yourself for immediately thinking of something so dirty, especially when you try to keep your mind as chaste as possible. However, this situation is a little different; it’s a bit difficult to _not_ think of the text that way, especially when you are forced— _daily_ —to watch Gamzee hang all over Karkat in a “strictly platonic” way. That poor kid.

Regardless, you shove your phone in your back pocket, crossing your arms over your chest before starting your walk back home. When you reach your yard, you don’t head for the door, but you head for the car in the driveway instead. You easily slide into the driver’s seat and he inserts the key, bringing the car to life.

You blast the heat and shiver when a gust of cold air brushes your cheek. You back out of the driveway and begin the twenty minute trip to your “local” grocery store. The air in the car starts to warm up as you pass a Stop-and-Shop and it reminds you that you could just stop there; it’s much closer to your house. But after the Cool Whip incident?

You shudder at the mere memory of it.

 _Never again_.

When you pull into the parking lot, you park beside a black mustang. You get out and walk to the front of the two cars, staring at both of them. You feel slightly inferior with your junky, rusty old hatchback, but you decide not to let it bother you and make your way across the parking lot. When the automatic doors part, a rush of warm air hits you and you smile, thankful that you’re not freezing anymore.

You head straight to the back of the store—the refrigerated aisle—where you stop in front of the milk and stand there. And you keep standing there. And you’re standing there for a good five minutes, staring at the motherfucking milk, with your eyebrows knit together, when someone accidentally bumps into you.

“Ah, I’m real sorry, chief…” the voice is smooth, like fucking silk or some shit, but you hardly notice at first. Your gaze doesn’t falter from where it’s focused on the dairy products in front of you. You murmur, “It is quite fine,” waving them off, staring at the milk and completely forgetting which brand they usually buy. You could probably just settle for something stupid like Roundy’s, but Karkat would know… he would fucking _know_ , and then you would probably never hear the end of it. Just as you spot what you’re looking for, the voice interrupts your train of thought once more.

“Hey, do I know you?” Now that your attention is drawn from the milk, you actually notice the appealing quality of the voice speaking to you. You look up for the first time and cock your head to the side; it’s a boy who looks roughly the same age as yourself. Perhaps a few years older, and definitely a few inches taller. Hair black and combed backwards, complexion pale and visibly flawless, eyes a deep, nearly impossible blue colour—almost purple… Yes, you definitely knew this boy somehow.

“I believe we attend the same school,” you reply after a few seconds.

The boy smiles and you can’t help but notice how beautiful it made him; eyebrows raised in surprised, eyes lit with unexplained excitement. “I knew you was familiar from somewhere.”

“ _Were_ ,” you correct without thinking.

The boy quirks an eyebrow, “Huh?”

It’s as if you’re on Auto-Correct-Mode when you speak. “Aside from the fact that you have uttered one of the most poorly constructed sentences that I’ve ever—” you stop yourself, sighing and closing your eyes briefly. “I am sorry. Never – just forget it.” you rub your temples and look away, glancing at the milk once more.

“I’m… sorry?”

“No, it’s my fault,” you (begrudgingly) admit quietly. “I have recently been made aware of the fact that I tend to focus on correcting people rather than the actual conversation at hand.”

The boy snorts, “You were gonna correct me?”

You feel your heart flutter awkwardly in your chest and feel ashamed as your cheeks flush a bright red, “Yes…and I am sorry.”

“Naw, chief.” The boy murmurs. “That’s actually…” he pauses. “It’s actually kinda adorable.” He said it as if it were common knowledge that you’re adorable when people obviously felt the exact opposite about you most of the time.

“A-adorable?” You flush again, but much darker and much more noticeable, eyes wide and mouth open slightly; you didn’t have to look to know the other boy had been smiling. It was practically visible purely through the tone of his voice. You almost hated this boy. This is the second time this evening – no, within the last fucking _hour_ you have been forced to look inside yourself and examine your views on sexuality, celibacy, emotions, and relationships.

“Yeah,” the boy winks at you. “You’re a real cutie.” You think you can see a faint blush across his cheeks, but you’re not positive. It could just be all the nervous adrenaline coursing through your veins, or it could be real. You think you’re just making it up… yeah that makes sense. Right? Right.

“I don’t – I mean, I’m not really.” You think you’re going to have a fucking heart attack and choke a little when you notice how the other boy is smirking at how flustered you had become. “I have to go,” you turn around, hurriedly, and take a few steps before stopping and turning back around. You slowly walk back to the boy and stand there a few seconds before muttering, “I forgot the milk.”

The other boy stands there, hands in his pockets, smiling down at you and raising his eyebrows expectantly. You sigh and carefully reach past the boy, grabbing a carton and hesitating before leaving again. When the other boy notices that you aren’t going to turn back around, he yells after you, “Hey chief! I didn’t catch your name!”

You stop once more, taking a shuttering breath and saying, “That’s because I did not give it to you.” You hear footsteps shuffling towards you and halt a few feet away from you.

“I’m Cronus,” you hear. “Cronus Ampora.” You look at Cronus out of the corner of your eye and swallow hard before shaking your head and starting to walk again. Is this the end of your conversation? You can only hope so, and to be polite you say “Nice to meet you, Cronus Ampora…”

Cronus’ footsteps easily fall in line with yours and you roll your eyes, mentally sighing in frustration. Then again, when you catch the look on Cronus’ face, you start to think that maybe it wasn’t so mental after all. “You ain’t gonna give me your name?”

“No…” you say ignoring his gaze. “I don’t think I will.”

Cronus nods, “You _do_ know that tomorrow is Friday, right?” You give him a suspicious sidelong glance.

“Yes, I am perfectly aware.” You reach the checkout counter and Cronus stands behind you, patiently waiting for you to pay—his gaze is unnerving, and you feel as if you’re being studied thoroughly. You absolutely hate it. The cashier hands you the change and looks between you with a smirk on her face; the expression on her face makes you want to disappear. She quite obviously thinks the two of you are an item… you’re not. You never will be.

Once you have your item in hand, Cronus resumes the conversation by saying, “I could just ask any student in the school what your name is,” he gestures to nobody in particular and runs a hand through his hair. You stop just before the doors, and Cronus pulls you aside, taking a quick T.O. near the vending machine against the wall.

“Hey, can I borrow your phone?” He asks, giving you his biggest puppy-dog eyes and beautifully hopeful smile. You give him a small smile in return before reaching in your pocket and handing it over. You don’t know the reason behind your calm and at-ease feeling around Cronus; you don’t understand why you’re letting this strange, beautiful boy borrow your phone.

Cronus takes the phone and starts doing… whatever it is that he’s doing. You are unnerved by the silence and think for a while before quietly asking, “I am going to guess that you are going to be graduating this year?” _Okay_ , you think to yourself, _where the hell am I going with this?!_ No clue. No fucking clue.

Cronus looks up at you. “You’d be guessing right,” he relies just as quietly. You bite your bottom lip but don’t notice how Cronus stares at your mouth as you contemplate your response. “And are you aware that I am _not_?” You hesitate before asking the question and almost regret it the second it’s out of your mouth. _Seriously_ … _where am I going with this?_

Cronus smiles at you brilliantly, “Well, now I am.” Then he goes back to doing God-knows-what on your phone. Surprised at his reaction, you continue to ask, “Are you still determined to discover my identity even though we run in different social circles?”

Cronus holds your phone out, not dropping it in your hands until after saying, “Oh, I don’t give up that easy, chief.” He just smiles slightly at you, turning and leaving you all alone with your thoughts.

It isn’t until a few seconds later that you realize that you have no fucking clue what Cronus used your phone for. You look down at the screen and smile. Normally you’d be freaking the fuck out, but this is _not_ a normal situation. So you fucking smile like a little girl getting a pony on her birthday.

You stuff the phone in your pocket and leave, thinking about what the hell had just happened. You don’t pull out your phone to look at the message again, but your mind is fairly preoccupied with it. Even as you’re driving home, you think of the short message and adorable emoji that held the key to a number that you would never _ever_ think to delete from your phone…

* * *

 

To: (PLEASE INSERT CONTACT OR NUMBER)  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _(887)577-2873. . .call me, cutie ^~^_

* * *

 

**== > Stop Being the Love-Struck Idiot**

   **== >Be the Love-Sick Idiot**


	2. ==> Be the Love-Sick Idiot

You are now the Love-Sick Idiot. Your name is Gamzee Makara. You are 16 years old and almost 6’4”, but your unruly mess of hair adds at least three inches to that.  You feel awkward and strange in your growing body and you are afraid to touch anything, lest you break it or damage it in any way. One of the few things you let yourself anywhere near is your best friend, Karkat Vantas whom you’ve known since you were in kindergarten. That motherfucker is 5’6”, and an adorable ball of fury and cynicism. You are in love with him.

You have been in love with him since you were 8 years old and started your first massive growth spurt. You used to be the smallest person in your grade—even shorter than Karkat—but after a Christmas break spent away in Ireland with your family, you came back almost nine inches taller than before. You were even more unused to your long limbs back then, and you would accidentally knock things over whenever you so much as breathed or shifted in the slightest. Every kid in your class either made fun of you or was afraid that you would hurt them somehow. Every kid… except Karkat.

One day near the end of the year, you were on the playground, sitting on the big metal jungle-gym type of contraption and talking with Karkat. Well, you weren’t really talking _with_ him so much as you were talking _at_ him while he listened and nodded politely at the right times and offered a few comments here and there. Even though the two of you had been friends for the last three years, you were never close enough to actually consider yourselves more than frequent/casual acquaintances.

The only time you hung out with him outside of school was once a month after school for about three hours—long enough for you to watch a movie—and the onetime per year when you slept over at his house on your birthday. It wasn’t that Karkat was a bad friend, it was just that he wasn’t used to having friends; or close ones, at that. And you didn’t push it. Karkat was your only friend and you were going to everything in your power to make him happy, even if it meant leaving him alone. But that day… your memory of it is as clear as can be. You remember the exact conversation. Every syllable uttered is ingrained in your mind like ridges on a vinyl record.

“I don’t know,” you remember Karkat saying.

“I don’t know,” you repeat with a sigh. “I just can’t do something like that.” You remember looking down at your long, thin fingers and flexing them a few times. All you could do was think about how destructive these things attached to your body were. Earlier that week you had completely destroyed several projects that were displayed in the classroom and therefore everyone in your class hated you. Except Karkat. The conversation you were having was you trying to figure out if you could do something nice for once…

Karkat had rolled his eyes at you, “Try it, you idiot.” At that time you didn’t know that all of Karkat’s terms of endearment were hurtful, and you took it personally. Your teeth bit your bottom lip hard enough to almost draw blood, contemplating exactly what you should do. After a moment, you reached into your pocket and took out something small. It was a tiny, clay, hand-painted sculpture of a fish with carefully carved details and perfect shape. It had taken you weeks of patience and concentration for you to make it and you had finished it just in time for Karkat’s birthday.

“What’s that?” He asked, pushing himself forward to see what was in your hand. Your fingers closed over it gently, holding it to your chest and shaking your head slightly. Karkat stares at you with a blank expression that you almost always interpret as ‘ _I swear to Gog, if you don’t tell me what’s up I’m going to murder you_ ’. You swallow hard and your hand is shaking as you extend your arms and cautiously drop the sculpture in his hands. He settles back against the curve of the slide and looks down at the object in his tiny hands.

“Did you… make this?” You nod. “For me?” You nod again and pull your knees in to your chest, folding your crazy-long giraffe limbs to make yourself as compact as possible. Karkat may be your friend, but you were always afraid that everything you said or did could upset him, and then where would you be? Karkat may be able to survive without friends, but you certainly couldn’t.

“Gamzee,” he said quietly with a strange quality to his voice. Was that… fondness you heard? Was that him expressing the fact that he actually cares about you even a little? You examine his face and when he looked at you, _you_ didn’t really realize that _he_ just suddenly realized that _you_ cared about him even a little. “I don’t really know what to say. I mean… th – thank you.” You could tell the words were foreign on his lips and smiled at the thought that _you’d_ made that happen. You were about to reply when you’d heard some noises from below. You looked over your shoulder and saw two girls looking up at you with dirty looks.

“Be careful around that _freak_ , Karkat.” You had recognized this girl as Vriska Serket. She was not a nice girl and you did not like her at all. Even if she was just a bully, her words had hurt more than you would ever let on.

“Yeah,” the other girl sneered. “All he does is _break_ stuff.” This girl was Aradia Megido.

Vriska had laughed harshly and added, “Watch out or he’ll break _you_!” Then they laughed at the hurt expression on your face and high-fived each other. To further avoid ridicule, you had made a move to stand up and leave when a small hand clamped down on your shoulder. Karkat had pushed you back down and stood up, jumping off the play-set and walking towards the snickering girls.

“Gamzee doesn’t _break_ things,” Karkat snarled. “I am sure he could, but he never would hurt anyone or anything on purpose. Me, on the other hand? I will kill you in cold blood, bitch.” Your eyes had widened at his language but there was a flutter of excitement in your chest. Vriska had swallowed hard and taken a step back, her hand on Aradia’s arm, preparing to throw the other girl in the way, lest Karkat become physical.

“I may not be a decent person,” Karkat gritted thorough his teeth, “but at least I can admit it. You act so innocent when everyone knows what a horrible person you are. I may be bad, but I’ll never be as bad as you and you may try to act good but you will _never_ be as good as Gamzee.”

“You can’t hurt me, Vantas,” Vriska had said with an obviously false vibrato. “If you try, I’ll just tell on you!” Between them, Aradia was staring at Karkat with a look of deep fear and terror, but with a slight hint of relief; his beef was _not_ with her.

“Oh, is that true?” Karkat sneered as he took another step towards Vriska. “Do you know who my brother is? Kankri Vantas.” He took another step, “And do you know who my brother is friends with? Porrim Maryam.” Another step, “And do you know that Porrim and your sister Aranea are friends? Know what that means? Kankri can talk to Aranea any time he wants. I don’t think she would like to hear that her younger sister was messing with her friend’s little brother for no good reason.” Oh Gog were you terrified that this may become violent…

Quietly climbed down to the ground and softly said his name. “Karkat?” He had tensed, clenching his jaw and his fists, when he heard your voice. Unafraid that Karkat might hurt you, you reached out and gently brushed his arm with your fingers. When you’d touched him, both of the girls and yourself could physically see the tension draining from Karkat.

“You’re not even worth my time,” Karkat had mumbled angrily at Vriska before turning and grabbing your wrist, pulling you away. And there it was; the look in his eye before he dragged you across the playground was what made you fall in love with him. It was the look that your mother gave you every night before you went to sleep. It was the look your brother gave you when he had lost you in the mall and finally found you. It was the look that your father gave you every once in a while when you’d come out of your shell and do something expressive.

It was thankful. It was proud. It was relieved. But above all? It was tender adoration. Karkat Vantas just expressed to you that he was glad to have you around; that he was _appreciative_ to have you around to keep him from doing stupid things. From that day on, that’s exactly what you did. You kept him from getting into fights that he would regret and you kept him from making decisions while he was in an unclear state of mind.

What he did for you in return was more than you could ever ask for. He accepted you. He accepted when you started to listen to that awful band ICP in 5th grade. He accepted when you started to wear your juggalo clown makeup a in 6th grade. He accepted when you started to drink that horrible excuse for a soft drink called Faygo a few short months later. He accepted when you started to smoke marijuana and hookah in 8th grade. Of course, he didn’t listen to ICP or wear makeup or drink Faygo but every once in a while, he would go over to your house and smoke a few joints. However, he was a firm believer that marijuana was a gateway drug and that he refused to turn into a pothead because “one of us has to stay sane”.

So yes, he protected you from the outside world and you protected him from himself. It was the only mutually beneficial relationship in your entire life… And that leads you to now, being 16 years old, high as fuck, slumped next to Karkat on his bed, wrapped up in the comforter of his bed because you’re so huge that regular blankets don’t cover you. Karkat is a big fan of romantic comedies and so two of you are watching _When Harry Met Sally…_ which you would probably find ironic if Karkat found you attractive in any way.

“Hey, Karbro?” You ask with a lazy grin, craning your neck to look at him.

“What?” He grumbles, turning his head towards you but keeping his eyes on the screen.

When you see that he’s not going to look at you, you rest your head on his shoulder and murmur into his shirt, “Do you have any Faygo?”

“Motherfucker, do you think I have any Faygo?” And you smile again, knowing what he’ll say next. “Fine, fuckass. I’ll text Kankri.” You grin against his arm and your lips pucker just in the slightest; just enough to kiss his arm from your position. He tenses for a second before looking down at you, “Did you just… _kiss_ my arm?”

You grin up at him, “I motherfuckin’ kissed your motherfuckin’ arm, Karbro.” You aren’t really worried about offending or hurting Karkat as much as you used to. Besides, at the moment you were way too high to give a fuck. He scoffs and rolls his eyes, going back to texting his brother. This was exactly the response you expected. So you guess it makes you kinda happy.

“Guess what, tiny motherfucker?” You know he hates when you call him tiny, but he doesn’t comment on that. He just says, “What now, fuckass?”

You laugh and feel it deep in your chest; it was the kind of laugh you only had when you were with Karkat. It was the only time your laugh was real. “Tomorrow is motherfuckin’ Friday.”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ know, Gamzee.”

“Your birthday is on Saturday.” You know it was a bad subject to bring up because you knew that Karkat hated birthdays, especially his own. He hated when people went out of their way to get him things and be nice to him. He also hated when people gave him things and was nice to him; even when Gamzee tries to give Karkat something, the first thing the younger boy asks is, “ _How much did it cost?_ ” And you _had_ to tell the truth because you knew he could tell when you were lying. If it was over five dollars, he would reimburse you… and you hated it.

“Ugh,” he doesn’t say anything for a second while he sends another text message, probably to Kankri who was most likely asking if they needed anything else. That dude was selfless like that, but he liked to hear himself talk and you didn’t really think he liked you all that much… Finally Karkat says, “So fuckin’ what?”

“So what do you wanna motherfuckin’ do, brother?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles, lifting the arm that your head was against. You pull away for a second, not understanding what was happening, and when you see him uncross his legs you get it. You lay back down, resting your head in his lap, and his hands find their way to your hair; Karkat can be harsh and difficult sometimes, but there was one thing he couldn’t deny: He fucking loved playing with your hair.

And you loved when he played with your hair. It always made you feel calm and at ease. In fact, it was so relaxing that if Karkat did it long enough, you’d fall asleep! It was like he was switching all the buttons in your brain to _sleep mode_. You sigh happily and close your eyes; Karkat was such a good dude. You feel yourself being pulled into unconsciousness when a thought hits your mind.

You hurriedly sit up, shoving his hands away from you. You try to glare at him as best as you can, but judging by the surprised/fond/angry look on Karkat’s face, you think you’re not very intimidating since you’re half asleep, your hair is all out of place, and you’re wrapped up in a huge blanket. You’re as lethal as a bunny rabbit, but you don’t care.

“I know what you’re motherfuckin’ do, Karbro.”

“I’m not doing anything, fuckass!” He shrugs and looks away from you; whenever Karkat looks away from you in situations like this, you know he’s fibbing.

“Yes you do,” you scoot a little closer to him and right when you’re about to open your mouth again, you hear the front door open, creak, and slam shut. Kankri’s home. You figure that you should wait to continue the conversation until _after_ that busy-body, eavesdropping, asshat was out of your sight. He walks past Karkat’s doorway.

“Hey Kankass!” Karkat says loudly, clearly grateful for the interruption. Kankri backtracks and looks in at them, frowning slightly. “Karkat I would appreciate it if you would refrain from calling me such things.”

Shit. Either Karkat and Kankri were going to get into a screaming match, like they sometimes did, or Karkat was going to say something that made Kankri look like an ass, which he _always_ did. “Where’s my motherfucking ice cream?”

Kankri looks confused for a second before his eyes go wide, looking down at his feet and shamefully muttering, “Feel free to call me Kankass any time you wish…” Karkat smirks, but then something occurs to you. You turn to Karkat with a frown on your face and ask, “Aw… no motherfuckin’ Faygo?” Karkat’s eyebrows go up in some kind of shock and realization, and Kankri mirrors his expression exactly.

“Kankri,” Karkat says, keeping his eyes trained on you. Since when did Karkat use Kankri’s actual name? It was always _Fuckass_ or _Kankles_ or _Kannoyance_ and now _Kankass_.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” then Kankri runs down the stairs and you hear the door open again, creak, and slam shut, louder than before. Seconds later, Mr. Vantas appears in Karkat’s doorway, expression annoyed and confused.

“What was that about?” He looks down the hall towards the stairs and then back to you and Karkat. “Haven’t you people ever heard of closing the goddamned door _quietly_?”

“Oh my Gog,” Karkat rolls his eyes and his face flushes in embarrassment. “Kankri was at the grocery store and came back without ice cream and Faygo. So he went out again.”

“Oh!” Understanding floods Mr. Vantas’ face and you look between your best friend and his father with a confused frown on your face. Everyone in the house seemed to realize something that you didn’t, and this wasn’t the first time… and it was starting to annoy you.

When you’re alone with Karkat again, you turn to him, “What’s motherfuckin’ going on, Karbro? What’s the motherfuckin’ deal with Faygo?” Karkat looks at you and rolls his eyes, as if this is knowledge you should already be aware of. When it is clear to Karkat that you have no idea what he means, he sighs uneasily.

“Gamzee,” he starts patiently. “When you don’t have Faygo and you’re craving it, you get anxious. Sometimes, when you’re feeling anxious, you… well, you kind of turn into The Incredible Hulk.” You feel a white-hot anger rise up inside of you upon hearing this accusation, but once you realize just how strong your anger is, you reevaluate your entire existence.

“Wh – why didn’t you tell me before?” You back away from him, arms curling around yourself. You flinch when he reaches out for you, and he draws his hand back as if you had bitten him or something.

“I – I thought you knew…” Karkat whispers, looking away and rubbing his fingers over the back of his left hand. You look down and you can barely see it, but you know it’s there. It’s four gashes in the back of his hand as if something with claws had attached him. You feel lightheaded as you look down at your violently shaking fingers, and you don’t realize you’re crying until a tear makes itself present on the palm of your hand.

“D-Did I do that to y-you?” You look up at him and his face is strange.

He reaches for you again as he says, “Yes, but Gamzee it’s fi—” You scurry backwards so fast that you fall off of his bed with a thud and yelp as something sharp stabs into your back. You’re slightly wrapped up in the blankets, and when you realize that you cannot get out of them easily, you panic. You start to feel claustrophobic—as if the blankets were growing tighter. As if they were wrapping around your neck and covering your face.

You are hyperventilating and making loud, panicked sounds as you fight the blanket off of you and scramble to your feet. You look at the small figure of your best friend… of your _old friend_ freeze on the bed. There’s fear in his eyes and the anger flashes inside of you again, but it’s not at him this time. “ _Don’t_ ,” you start with a hiss. “Don’t tell me it’s fine because it’s motherfucking _not_ , Karkat. It’s **_not_**.” You back yourself against the door, and close your eyes, panting heavily. However, you can’t even keep your eyes closed because you start to feel like your eyelids are being sewn shut, keeping you blind and unaware of your actions. Your eyes fly open and meet Karkat’s before shutting them again; you somehow cannot manage to keep them open either.

 _I motherfuckin’ hurt my best bro. How the flying fuck could I manage that?! What does this mean now? Well I can’t stay. I can’t hurt him again. I’d – I’d fucking kill myself, I all up and motherfuckin’ swear._ Then something dawns on you. _Oh Gog. Oh fuck… Vriska was right. All I do is break everything. I thought I could be careful with him. With everything I love. The **only** thing I love. Motherfuck how long have I been like this? I’m horrible. I’m a motherfucking horrible person. I can’t be around anyone… I deserve to be alone. Oh Gog I think I’m gonna up and vomit. _

You run out the door but you run away from the bathroom, heading towards the stairs instead. You almost fall as you fly down them and wrench open the door. You’re barely aware of the voice of your only love telling you to calm down and relax. The cold outside air hits you like a sack of bricks and you take a deep breath before launching yourself outside. You run.

You don’t know where you’re going. You don’t realize that you left your jacket and your shoes at Karkat’s house. You don’t realize that you’re bleeding heavily from landing on something sharp in Karkat’s room. You don’t think, you just run. Down the street. You turn the corner.

Keep going.

You reach the woods and don’t hesitate to enter. A few meters in, you’re about to stop yourself to breathe, but your socks get drenched in a puddle of water, and you slip and fall, hitting your head on a log. It hurts and you can’t move. Even if it’s freezing outside, your head starts to feel warm. Something sticky and warm runs down your neck and puddles in the hollow of your collarbone and shoulder.

Your sense come rushing back to you and you feel everything. You feel how cold you are, you feel the branches sticking into your side, and you feel the deep wound in your back. You feel your heart break and you feel the millions of pieces scatter within you like shards of glass, and it fucking _hurts_.

Something else that’s warm runs down your cheek. There’s warm water coming from your eyes for the second time in twenty minutes. The last thing you see behind your eyelids, before you’re gone, is the bright beautiful face of Karkat Vantas and it puts you strangely at ease.

 

**== > Stop Being the Barely-Breathing-Suicidal Psycho**

**== > Rewind: Be a Contemplative Young Man**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh fuck. Shit just got real.  
> REALLY SAD ;-;
> 
> The next chapter may be posted a little late...sorry.


	3. ==> Rewind: Be a Contemplative Young Man

You are now a Contemplative Young Man. Your name is Cronus Ampora. You are an adult as of two months ago, and you are currently sitting on the floor of your room. There is a guitar next to you, a pen in your left hand, and a notebook in your right. This is what you do quite often. You sit in your room and write songs. You love to sing and you figure that you’re not horrible at it since your family never tells you to shut the fuck up. Although, occasionally your brother Eridan will tell you to “stop playing and go to bed, you idiot” and you oblige.

You sigh and toss your pen across the room, leaning back against your bed. You get up and leave your room, heading to the door down the hallway. When you reach the door you pause slightly, hesitant to knock. With another sigh you lift your hand and tap your knuckles against the wood. On the other side you hear a faint sound and twist the knob, stepping inside. Even if you couldn’t tell what the person had said, you knew him well enough by now to understand that sounds mean _come in_ and silence means _not now, Cronus_.

“Hey Eri, I was won—” You stop and your face contorts into an expression of Eridan; you have given your brother this expression so often that you simply called it _Eridan_. Not only that, but you tend to use it in conversation with your friends. You may turn to your friend Meenah Piexes and say, ‘ _Last hour I walk into the bathroom an’ there’s this kid an’ I see him just wash his hands but he passes me, and ralphs all over the goddamned place! I was just like  ‘_ Eridan… what the fuck…’ _and he apologized before passing out_.’

However this was the present.

“Uh,” you start uneasily. “Are you, er, building a model _airplane_?” He turns and looks at you with a sharp expression; it is probably not the best thing you could say at this time but you were just so – so surprised.

“Yes, Cronus.” Eridan mutters, going back to carefully assembling the small metal airplane. You walk up behind him and look down at what he’s specifically trying to do and see that he keeps missing a screw hole and is getting frustrated. Without saying anything, you reach down, take the screw from him, and gently push it in its rightful place. Eridan makes a noise of frustration, “I am a little busy right now. Is there something you wanted?”

“Oh, yeah I’m going to the store for some, er, waffles. We ran out and I want some more. I was wondering if you wanted anything.” There is a faint blush in your cheeks at the slip up in your dialogue. What you really meant when you said _store_ was _gas station_ and when you said _waffles_ you really meant _cigarettes_ and your hesitation seemed suspicious to Eridan; you can see it in his eyes. The younger boy simply shakes his head, still eyeing you distrustfully. You laugh and smile at him, trying to brush off your mistake, and back out of his room slowly. Right before you close the door and run like hell, you say to him, “Real sorry ‘bout your airplane, Eri!”

You take your time down the stairs and slip your leather jacket off of the hook shrugging it on easily. Your keys jingle in your pocket, and before you enter your garage your father stops you. “Where you off to now?” He’s leaning against the kitchen counter, eyebrows raised in suspicion.

You sigh and turn to face him, “The store.”

He gives you a look of surprise, “For?”

You rub your temples, “Waffles. Magazines. Ice cream. Does it matter?”

“No,” he murmurs with a shrug. “I was just wondering.” You roll your eyes and leave. The garage is cold and smells of cigarettes and gasoline; not a wonderful (or safe) combination. Your dad knows that you smoke, though he likes to pretend he doesn’t. The only place he’ll let you light up is in the garage because he never goes in there. You spend a lot of time in there either smoking or working on your car since it hasn’t been running very well lately. Instead of dealing with faulty engines, you just decide to take your other car.

Well, the thing is… your family is basically rich. The car that you’d _like_ to drive is a classic car that doesn’t work very well, leaks oil, and has a horrible sound system. The car you mostly _have_ to drive is perfect except that it makes you look like a douche bag. You are not a douche bag. Nonetheless, you slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine soundlessly. You had originally planned on going to the gas station for a pack of smokes, but talking about waffles and ice cream really made you want some waffles and ice cream. So you back out of your driveway and make your way to the grocery store.

You park and casually stroll towards the door. It’s cold outside but you hardly notice. You’re only focused on getting in and out of the store as quickly as possible, but despite this, you insist on walking at a rather leisurely pace. You’re inside, strolling along to the refrigerated/frozen section when you get a text message from your brother.

* * *

 

To: Cronus Ampora  
From: caligulasAquarium  
 _can you bring home some soup?? thanks._

* * *

 

You don’t even bother to reply since you see that he expects you’ll grab it anyways. You roll your eyes and shove your phone in your pocket. You start to walk again and when you round the corner, you see something that makes you stop in your tracks. It is possibly the most adorable and amazing human beings to ever walk the planet, and you’ve had your eye on him for years. However, you have no idea what his name is.

You decide that you desperately want to talk to him but you can’t just walk up to him and say, _Hey, I’ve kinda been in love with you for a couple of years now. Can I kiss you_? No. You don’t figure that’ll work out too well in your favor. So you settle for a forced chance encounter. You walk towards him and accidentally bump into him, admittedly a lot harder than you had anticipated. But he hardly moves.

You look at him and take a deep breath, “Ah, I’m real sorry, chief…” Not only does he not move, his concentration doesn’t seem to have been broken at all. He waves you off, staring at the milk in front of him, and murmurs, “It is quite fine.” Sensing that you have failed in your task to initiate a real conversation, you try again.

“Hey, do I know you?” You notice the boy shake his head slightly, as if coming out of a trance, and he looks at you carefully. Having him actually look at you sets your heart at a million miles per minute and you can’t believe that this is actually happening. Gog, if Eridan was with you, you know you’d never hear the end of it. For weeks, the only thing he’d mention is how feminine and obnoxious you tend to be when it comes to matters of the heart.

You glance down at the boy and examine him for a second. He is short… very short. His wavy hair is dark brown, almost black, and contrasts (rather attractively) against his pale-as-a-sheet  complexion. He is wearing black pants and a red sweater that would be big even on you. It drowns his tiny figure and for a second, your mind wanders down into unwelcome territory as you start to think: What would he look like if you happened to take off that abnormally large sweater? Just how small would he be?

He cocks his head to the side—in a rather adorable manner, you note—before he blinks a few times and says, “I believe we attend the same school.”

You smile and nod, “I knew you was familiar from somewhere.”

“ _Were_ ,” he corrects.

You quirk an eyebrow at him, “Huh?”

He doesn’t think twice before continuing, “Aside from the fact that you have uttered one of the most poorly constructed sentences that I’ve ever—” he stops and sighs, closing his eyes for a second. “I am sorry. Never – just forget it.” He rubs his temples and looks away, glancing at the milk again.

“I’m… sorry?” You were confused. Did you say something wrong?

“No, it’s my fault,” he said quietly. “I have recently been made aware of the fact that I tend to focus on correcting people rather than the actual conversation at hand.” Oh Gog fucking damnit. This kid was so fucking adorable. Luckily, you were always the kind of person who could brush off stuff like that rather easily.

You snort and raise an eyebrow at him, “You were gonna correct me?”

“Yes…and I am sorry,” he says as his cheeks flush a bright red colour.

“Naw, chief,” you murmur, your expression softening just slightly. “That’s actually… It’s actually kinda adorable.” Damn. You were smooth, and this was only further proved when you looked down and saw him blush again, but quite a bit more noticeable. His abnormally beautiful eyes were wide and his mouth was open slightly as if he were trying to say something but didn’t know where to start. You just really wanna kiss him.

“A-adorable?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah,” you wink at him. “You’re a real cutie.” And although you’re not aware of it, there is also a faint blush in your cheeks as well. You never anticipated that he would talk to you. Like, an actual conversation; you had watched him long enough to know that he really only talked to a few people and would quite often annoy them so much that they refused to talk to him again.

“I don’t – I mean, I’m not really.” At a complete loss for words he says, “I have to go.”

He quickly turns around and takes a few steps forward before stopping. You smile slightly when he turns back towards you and slowly walks back to where he was standing before. He stands there and stares at you with an upset and annoyed look as he mutters, “I forgot the milk.” He shoulders past you, careful not to touch you, and grabs a carton before clutching it to his chest tightly and scurrying away. When it’s clear that he isn’t going to stop or turn around again, you call out after him to try and get his attention,

“Hey chief!” You start anxiously, “I didn’t catch your name!” You see him stop but he doesn’t turn around. You hold your breath for a few seconds, hoping for a response, until he says, “That’s because I did not give it to you.”

You walk up behind him and stop a few feet away, “I’m Cronus,” you tell him. “Cronus Ampora.”

He nods once, not looking at you, “Nice to meet you, Cronus Ampora…” and there he goes… walking off again. But the kid is short and your steps easily fall in line with his. You raise an eyebrow at him, “You ain’t gonna give me your name?”

“No…” he says, turning a corner. “I don’t think I will.”

You nod, considering this, “You _do_ know that tomorrow is Friday, right?”

He gives you a suspicious sidelong glance, “Yes, I am perfectly aware.” When he reaches the checkout counter you stand behind him, patiently waiting for him to pay. You’re staring at him, examining his best and worst features. He has a practically perfect profile, but his nose turns up just enough that you can tell he’s self-conscious about it. He is small and it works for him, but judging by the strangely large sweater, you think he is uncomfortable with being so tiny and he must think that wearing something so big wouldn’t emphasize just how little he is… and you were seriously wondering just how little he is. But you don’t have time to keep staring, even though you desperately want to.

Seconds later, you notice that he has paid, and you follow him in order to resume your conversation.  “I could just ask any student in the school what your name is,” you gesture to nobody in particular and run a hand through your hair. He stops just before walking out of the door, and you decide to pull him aside, taking a little break near the vending machine.

“Hey, can I borrow your phone?” You ask, giving him your brightest smile and saddest eyes. He smiles slightly at you before reaching in his pocket and handing it to you. You take it gratefully and press _menu_. You scroll for a while and then hit _text messages_.

You’re distracted when he quietly asks, “I am going to guess that you are going to be graduating this year?” _Okay_ , you think to yourself, _where the hell is he going with this?!_ No clue. No fucking clue.  You look up at him, “You’d be guessing right,” you reply just as quietly. He bites his bottom lip and you suddenly realize that you have an abnormally strong oral fixation and _seriously_ can you just, like, _kiss_ _him_ _now_?!

“And are you aware that I am _not_?” You can sense the hesitation in his voice and the foreign uncertainty he is conveying; this isn’t how he usually operates and it’s really obvious. He was the kind of person to dictate, start, and end a conversation just the way he wishes. This time, you’re in control and he knows it.

You smile at him brilliantly, “Well, now I am.” As you go back to the phone in your hand and press _NEW MESSAGE_ you feel kind of bad but also really proud of yourself for lying to him like that. You didn’t want to say something that would make him feel stupid even if it was the truth. He made you feel that way; he made you feel like everything he said was gospel and that you should obey it, even if you know he’s wrong.

He seems surprised at your reaction and continues on to ask, ““Are you still determined to discover my identity even though we run in different social circles?” After typing the message, you close his phone and look at him, not returning the electronic until you say, “Oh, I don’t give up that easy, chief.” Then you smile slightly at him and you turn away, leaving him alone with his thoughts. After he leaves, you spend a relatively short amount of time in that grocery store, picking up the things you wanted and the things Eridan asked for.

When you arrive back home, you head to the kitchen and put away your groceries. You go about your nightly routine rather quickly and efficiently, feeling all your energy drain from you the second you sit on your bed. Should you even bother with homework? You decide against it and settle under the covers, pulling them up and snuggling in deep, sighing happily. Right before you drift off to sleep, your phone beeps. You contemplate not answering, but decide that you probably should, just to be safe. When you look at your screen and realize that you have no idea whose number it is, you smile brightly and eagerly press _READ NOW_.

* * *

 

To: Cronus Ampora  
From: (431)387-9847  
 _I appreciate y9ur interest in me, 6ut I must require that  
_ _y9u st9p calling me a “cutie”. I am n9thing 9f the s9rt._

* * *

To: (431)387-9847  
From: Cronus Ampora  
 _pfft. . . you are VWERY cute, chief!  
_ _don’t lie to yourself, and don’t lie to me_

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora  
From: (431)387-9847  
 _Hm. . . G99d night, Cr9nus._

* * *

 

To: (431)387-9847  
From: Cronus Ampora  
 _g’night, chief  
_ _i’ll see you tomorrovw_

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora  
From: (431)387-9847  
 _Y9u just might, Mr. Amp9ra.  
_ _Y9u just might. . ._

* * *

 

And right before you drift off to sleep, you imagine the adorably hot boy in the grocery store and his beautiful, _beautiful_ mouth.

 

**== > Stop Being a Contemplative Young Man**

**== > Be Dave Strider**


	4. ==> Be Dave Strider

You are now Dave Strider. You are 17 years old and you live with your brother Dirk. Your parents are always away on business, but they send money to keep you alive. They also send birthday cards and Christmas presents… but you suspect that your brother is the one to send those, posing as your parents to spare you any agony. You’re not a little kid, and you don’t need him to, but you’re glad that he does. He is 19 years old and works at the record store down the street from 12 PM to 7 PM every day since he isn’t attending college. It pays pretty well, not that you guys need it considering how much you get from your parents.

It’s Friday night, and right now you are sitting at your desk laying down some sick beats for the phat rhymes you had written down yesterday after your fight with your best bro Kankri. Every once in a while you glance over the top of your computer towards your door, desperately hoping that it stays shut. It isn’t uncommon for your brother to burst through your door and annoy the fuck out of you, and usually you wouldn’t really mind. However, things are different at this point in your life.

To you, your brother is immature sometimes, but he is also _really_ cool, though you’d never tell him that. You have a nice circle of friends—it’s not very big, but still. You like hanging out with them. _All_ of them; John (when you can), Rose (when she can), Jade (on the weekends, if ever), Kankri ( _regretfully_ ), Karkat (sometimes), Gamzee (usually but not all the time), Kanaya (just cause she’s a pretty cool chick), and Feferi (for obvious reasons). You feel rather strongly for Feferi even if she can be really overbearing sometimes. You like her so much that you actually think you could date her…

Or at least, you _did_ think you could date her. And that’s where you left off on the conversation with Kankri. Yes you liked Feferi, but there was someone you were starting to like in a different way, a lot more than you liked Feferi. And he happened to live in your house. You know that incest is taboo. Some might even go as far as to say that it’s sick or wrong. Being the chilled out dude that you are, you know that you don’t get to decide who you fall in love with.

However, not only is Dirk a boy… he’s your brother. That’s killing two socially-awkward-topic birds with one stone. Incest? Taboo! Homosexuality? Eh, slightly uncomfortable. Homosexual incest? Don’t even talk to me.

 _Incest is best when you keep it in the family…_ You smirk to yourself at your rad pun before remembering what you were doing in the first place. Oh yeah! Avoiding your totally hot, seriously confusing brother. He was taking a shower and you knew his favourite thing to do was fuck with you and burst into your room in only his underwear—or even worse, completely naked.

Well… not that you minded a few hours later when you were laying in your bed jacking off to the mental image of his insanely attractive figure. Damn. That’s one hot bod. You shake your head and look back down at your computer and continue on mixing and remixing tracks to make one sick tune. You are so close to being finished; it’s being exported at this very moment. You sit back in your chair and smirk. You’re so dope, bro.

Just as you’re about to put your hands behind your head and lean back, you hear someone walking down the hallway. Oh shit. No… fuckfuckfuckfuck. Goddamnit!

 

**== > Stop It, Dirk!**

**== > Dave Strider: Strife!**


	5. ==> Dave Strider: Strife!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: SEXY-TIMES!

“Dave!” Dirk’s voice is calm as usual, with his cool excitement and challenging attitude. You are still Dave Strider. You are now feeling what you usually refer to as _strife_ and it’s all because of your stupid, sexy, annoying, older, sexy brother. You had to say “sexy” twice just to reinforce it. A few feet away, your door knob starts to turn and you pray to Jesus Christ that you see underwear. You hear his voice inquire once more, “Davebro! Where you at, little man?” Your eyes go wide; even though you know that Dirk will bust in here at any time, you also know that he won’t actually _come in_ until he hears the sound of metal being drawn from wood as you take out your katana. And sometimes you do. Sometimes you don’t.

But when Dirk _really_ wants to get into your room he’ll say ‘ _Where you at, little man?_ ’ because he knows, oh he fucking _knows_ that you—more than anything else—hate being called little. Today, you waste no time in reaching beside you to where your sword was placed specifically so that you could reach it’s handle immediately; you had swords set up like this almost everywhere in the house, and Dirk never once messed with them because even though he usually won the fights, he knew that you could go ape shit when you wanted.

Shortly after you have your weapon in hand, the door flies open and you mentally send fan-mail to Jesus when your eyes land on the Hello Kitty boxers. To anyone else, seeing an adult in Hello Kitty boxers, with stupid sunglasses on, holding a dumb sword would be absolutely hilarious. You were smarter than those people. Dirk could throw down.

He points his sword at you, “You wanna go?” He asks calmly.

Your eyes go wide at the verbal challenge before you narrow them at him, “Unless you’re taking me to the mall, _no_. I don’t _wanna_ _go_.” Before you can even blink, Dirk has made his move. Travelling at impossible speeds in order to stand over you, blade to your throat, leaving you trapped in your desk chair, hand clutching your katana helplessly. You make one move and it’s game over. Feeling too overwhelmed by the closeness of his junk to your face, you sigh and let your sword slide to the floor where it lands with a loud _clank_.

You blink again and Dirk is a few feet away, sheathing his blade in the holder that you didn’t see strapped to his waist. He nods at you, “Not bad, bro.”

“Why are you even here?” You ask, slightly puzzled. Why did he challenge you if he was just going to let you off that easy? Wait. You think you knew why. Whenever there was a Harry Potter marathon on ABC Family—which was almost always—Dirk would basically kick down your door, katana in hand, demanding that you watch at least two of the movies with him. It was stupid. You guys didn’t even watch the TV showing of it. You put the DVD in and just watched that instead. Dirk says it’s because he doesn’t want to be interrupted by commercials, which you figure makes sense; who actually _likes_ commercials for Herpes medication in the middle of a Harry Potter movie?

Of course, you figure that you’re lucky. He goes crazy over Harry Potter, but once in a blue moon, he’ll catch a network that’s showing Star Wars and that’s when he literally _does_ kick down your door, rope in hand, and ties you up. He drags you downstairs and puts you on the couch and you two watch a Star Wars movie… or six… in one sitting. You don’t remember. You do remember why Dirk loves Star Wars so much, though. He always said that it was because all the light sabers reminded him of katanas, and how the two of you would be fighting like Jedi’s in the future. That’s when you reminded Dirk that he was insane for thinking that you would fight him with a light saber since those things, like, _cut off limbs and shit_.

“You,” Dirk points at you. “Me,” he gestures to himself. “Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.” He pulls a DVD case out from behind his back and you don’t want to know where he was keeping it. He points to the door, “ _Downstairs. Now_.”

“Are you gonna put clothes on first?” You ask warily, eyeing that stupid smiling cat printed on his boxers.

“Of course not, motherfucker!” He smirks and holds out his hand. “You gonna come or what?” And despite knowing exactly what he meant, you blush anyways, shoving his hand away and walking past him, grumbling under your breath about stupid brothers and annoying movies. “Oh come on, Dave!” Dirk calls after you, following in your footsteps. “Be affectionate. I’m just trying to show you that I love you!” You roll your eyes, but you’re startled when he walks up behind you and grabs your hand, letting you pull him downstairs. _Yeah_ , you think to yourself. _I love you too… just in a different way_.

And then you find yourself lying on the obnoxiously large couch, ankles crossed and head on a fluffy pillow. Dirk is sitting on the other side of the pillow, staring idly at the television. He doesn’t notice you. You, on the other hand, are staring at him out of the corner of your eye; staring at the sharpness of his collar bones and his smooth pale skin. You’re watching his chest rise and fall evenly and all you want to do is touch him. But you don’t. Because then you’d have to explain yourself. And you are not up for that.

“Y’know,” Dirk says suddenly. “I really do love you.” You’re completely used to him saying things like this since he’s the only person you can depend on. Despite how much the two of you argue sometimes, there is nothing but pure love at the center of your relationship. Even though you know he means it in an extremely brotherly way, you can’t help but flush.

However, this time is different. The way he said it… it’s not normal. He sounds almost like how you imagine you’d sound if you said it. But you must be imagining things because you know that Dirk could never love you like that. On the other hand, you know that he wouldn’t freak out or call you gross or wrong or sick. Things would be weird between you guys, but he would never abandon you; you’re the only one there for him just as much as he’s the only one there for you. You stopped counting on your parents as anything but a meal ticket a long, long time ago. But right now you know you have no choice but to be completely calm and collected. You reach up and touch his hair, knocking him in the head playfully.

You roll your eyes and say, “I love you too, dork…” You feel him lean into your hand and at the top of your vision—just over your ironic shades—you can see him smile and close his eyes. Your hand lingers longer than necessary and you pray to God that Dirk doesn’t notice or say something about it. But when Dirk says nothing, you start to slowly sift his hair through your fingers; just enough to reach the back of his head and scratch the nape of his neck, something you know makes him practically melt. As your fingers gently stroke the back of his head, you can hear him sigh in happiness.

“Dave…” you hear Dirk’s voice softly float to your ears and you feel his hand close around your, pulling it away from his neck, threading his fingers through yours. You tilt your head just enough to meet his eyes. Well… you can’t actually see his eyes and he can’t see yours, but you know he’s looking at you.

Quietly you respond, “Yeah?” When he just continues to stare at you, you twist around and sit up to face him, even though your butt is almost falling off of the couch. Never once did you let go of his hand; you look down at your fingers tangled together and feel yourself flush slightly.

“Dave…” Dirk repeats, voice lower. You feel your heart clench and give him a questioning look. He lets go of your hand and reaches towards your face. You flinch away slightly, but it doesn’t deter his movement. His fingers close around the sides of your shades and he draws them away from your face, folding them carefully and putting them on the coffee table. Then he reaches up to his own glasses and you watch, heart racing, as he removes and places them next to yours. He turns his head to look at you, and you look away, terrified; you can’t remember the last time you saw Dirk’s eyes.

You knew they were a strange orange colour just like your eyes were a strange red colour, but you don’t even remember what they look like anymore. All you can imagine is the shade of orange… nothing more. Nothing less. But you know that if you look into his eyes, you will never be able to look away. You know you’d be lost forever. You know you wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation to lean in and just…

You get distracted when you feel Dirk’s thumb and forefinger close around your chin and force you to look at him, but you immediately close your eyes. You don’t notice that you’re shaking until Dirk’s hand cups the side of your face and hushes you, thumb brushing the apple of your cheek.

“You’re okay, Dave.” You don’t even know why he’s saying it, but you’re glad about it anyway. Part of you comes to the realization that you don’t want to look at him because you’re ashamed of the colour of your eyes. Yes, it’s true that having orange eyes isn’t much different than red eyes on the spectrum of weirdness, but red is such a demonic colour. You’ve never really let anyone other than Dirk see your eyes, and the last time he saw you without your shades was five years ago when you came home from school crying about the fact that kids were bullying you when you tripped and your glasses fell off, letting all of them see your eyes. From that day forward you decided to never take your shades off unless you were sleeping. You wore them when you went to school, you wore them when you ate, or when you played video games, or when it was pitch dark outside and you knew you couldn’t see a damn thing.

Above everything else, you _always_ wore them when you were looking in a mirror. Even when you were showering, the second you turned the water off, you reached for your shades and then for a towel. They had become a protective barrier to hide yourself from the world. You wore them to look mysterious and odd so that people wouldn’t try and talk to you… well, that is, aside from your friends, but they had never seen your eyes either.

Now that you come to think of it, you don’t even remember what your own eyes look like, and for a moment, you’re ashamed of how happy that makes you.

“Dave, look at me.” Dirk says gently. You shake your head and hear him sigh, placing his hands on the sides of your face. “Dave,” he repeats. “Look at me.” You shake your head again and pout slightly. Before you can even open your mouth to refuse or think of something to do in retaliation, you feel something brush your lips. Your mind goes completely blank, and you feel absolutely nothing except something smooth and warm pressed against your lips. The realization starts to creep into your consciousness that _Dirk_ is actually _kissing_ you.

 _Holy shit_ , you think. You’re absolutely petrified, as still as stone. Completely unresponsive to his advances despite how desperately you want to reciprocate. When he notices how tense you are, his lips move across your jaw and down your neck to the hollow of your collarbone where you feel his teeth nip you slightly. You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding and start to relax into his touch, finally forcing your body to get with the program the way that your brain instantly had.

However, now that you have exactly what you want, you start to feel wrong. Very wrong. Everything within you has been destroyed at this very moment; the foundations of what you have lived on your entire life are coming crashing down around you and it’s too much for you to handle. Too much. Normally Dirk is infamously fast with his flashstepping abilities but the panic you feel at this moment is enough to shock even Dirk when you push him away and retreat to your room in the blink of an eye, regretfully leaving your glasses behind.

You are now sitting on your bed, holding your knees to your chest and sobbing shamelessly. This is all wrong. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. You realize that now and you regret letting your emotions get you this far; so far that you wish you could implode on yourself. You don’t even hear Dirk open the door and come in. You don’t hear him move across the room at lightning speeds, and you don’t feel him sit down on your bed. All you feel is the sudden contact of his arms circling around you, holding you tightly to his chest.

“It’s just so wrong,” you sob. “So wrong…”

“Shh,” Dirk tries to quiet you. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry, Dave. I really am.”

“It’s not your fault,” you cry even harder when your heart breaks at the realization that Dirk thinks it’s his fault when it’s really your fault. “It’s me… It’s always me.”

“What do you mean?” You also don’t know how he managed to grab a box of tissues, but he’s cautiously attempting to wipe some of your tears away.

“I just love you so much,” you feel him freeze. “But I’m such a freak. I’m a fucking _freak_ and you deserve so much better. I’m so—” Faster than you’ve ever seen him move before, Dirk has you pinned against the mattress, hands clamped around your forearms, legs straddling your hips. The shock of it all forces you to stare up at him with wide eyes, tears still slipping down your cheeks. The look in his eyes makes you stop breathing altogether. The complete and utter fear  and sadness with just a hint of lost sense of purpose that you see in him almost makes you choke.

“Shut up,” he grits out through his teeth. “Dave… you need to just _shut up_.” Then he looks down and shuts his eyes tightly and you notice his breathing become uneven and shaky. You think he’s having a heart attack until you realize that he’s crying. Your big brother, who is made of stone and ice and wind and fire is breaking down right in front of you. And that, too, is something that is your fault.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, staring straight up at the ceiling.

“Why?” He asks in a voice so low that you hardly hear it. You don’t reply. “Why?! Why are you _sorry_?” Now he’s practically yelling, staring down at you, crying shamelessly. You feel every tear that falls on your face practically burning through your skin. “Why are you _hurting so much_? Why do you think you’re _a freak_? But for the love of God, _why do you think I you’re not good enough for me?!_ ”

You don’t know how to answer. You honestly don’t. What are you supposed to say? Are you supposed to tell him about how the bullying never stopped? Are you supposed to tell him that you’ve been absolutely _out of your mind_ lately because of him? Are you supposed to tell him that you seriously don’t understand why he’d want to be with you when he could be with someone else? No. You didn’t think so either.

After a couple of seconds Dirk seems to have regained his usual composure. He is staring at you with the same amount of fear and hurt, but now there’s something else that you don’t quite recognize. Conviction. “There is nobodyon this entire fucking planet that I love more than I love you. There is nobody on this planet that I care about more than I care about you. There is _nobody_ as amazing and beautiful as you are. Nobody could even hope to compare. _Nobody_.”

You still don’t get it. What does he see in you? Honestly, what does he see in you that’s so different from anyone else. Maybe it’s because you’re a Strider. Maybe it’s because he’s your brother and he’s watched you grow up and become as awesome as you are now. Maybe it’s because he knows that no matter what, he can always protect you. You’re not sure, but you think it’s a start.

“Please,” he says, quiet again. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. I love you too much to sit idly by and listen to someone slander you, even if it’s you.” You swallow and he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours, releasing your forearms.

Seeing him cry like that manifested an entirely new emotion in your heart. You push your fingers through his hair, resting near the back of his head. He pulls back, looking slightly surprised and you smile sadly, pulling him back down and capturing his lips. Now it’s his turn to be hesitant, and you break apart an inch, staring into his eyes and saying, “Come on, Dirk. Be affectionate. I’m just trying to show you that I love you.”

Dirk looks down at you and strokes the side of your face affectionately. “You’re beautiful, Dave. Eyes and all.”

You turn your head to the side and swallow hard. “No. I’m really not… I don’t get how you could think I am.”

You feel him shrug, “I don’t get how you couldn’t.” You don’t expect him to lean down and press his lips to the base of your throat but when he does, it sends a tingle of desire through you and your fists clench in his hair, pulling him closer. He presses himself flat against you and his teeth nip at your skin. You feel the tip of his incredibly hot and wet tongue draw a line up your neck, and your back arches as you groan lightly. When he reaches the sensitive spot under your ear, he sucks and licks until you’re absolute putty in his hands, shivering and breathing heavily.

“D-Dirk,” you whine rather pathetically. You’re not sure when exactly your pants started to feel a bit too tight, but when he shifts and you feel his growing erection pressing into your thigh, you can’t help the heat that pools in your stomach. He nuzzles into your neck and sighs, his breath is hot on your skin. You pet his hair.

“I love you, Dave.” He could say it a thousand times; you would never get used to it. It continuously sends shivers down your spine. “I truly love you. So much. So very much. I don’t care that you’re my little brother. I don’t care. I just fucking love you, okay?” He pulls back and this time you don’t protest when he turns your head to face him. He leans down and softly kisses you. You eagerly kiss him back and your lips part when you feel his tongue begging for entrance. His tongue licks its way into your mouth and for some reason, he tastes like vanilla and how lavender smells... it’s a weird combination, but you really like it. You moan when Dirk massages your tongue with his own and grinds his erection against your own.

“W-wait,” you pant. You push him back and sit up, taking a deep breath. “Dirk… should we really do this? I mean, you’re so – you’re just perfect but I’m – oh _fuck_!” You moan again, rather loudly and embarrassingly, when he grinds against you again, smirking at your reaction. He leans back and looks at you, and you can only imagine how you must look; face flushed, eyelids heavy with lust, lips wet and swollen from kissing the _shit_ out of your _older brother_ … fuck. You look down and your eyes practically bulge out of your head when you see the fucking _enormous_ tent in his Hello Kitty boxers. Speaking of those boxers, they are starting to look strangely sexual at the moment, and you know you’ll never be able to look at cute, innocent things ever again without sporting a partial.

You lick your lips, eyes still glued to the outline of his dick in his pants. Your own cock twitches in your pants and despite how much you really want to stop and think about this for a second, you also _really_ want his dick in your mouth. Like. _Now_.

“Dave,” Dirk’s voice brings you out of your trance and your eyes snap to meet his. You feel another pang of lust shoot through you because Jesus Christ he is basically undressing you with his eyes. He runs his hands down your chest, causing you to shiver, and land on your belt. You both look down and you’re kind of embarrassed to see that you look just as turned on as you feel. You try to push his hands away and pull your shirt down to hide the evidence of how badly you want him. He grabs your arm and brings your wrist close to his mouth. Your eyes go wide and he’s watching you with his eyebrows raised.

“No,” you whisper. “No, no, no. Please, Dirk.” He lets out a breath of hot air that brushes across your wrist and you moan, arching your back. If there’s one spot on your entire body that could have a giant X on it that marked your erogenous zones, it would be right on your wrists. “If you do this,” you warn him, forcing yourself to breathe evenly. “There’s no going back.”

“I know,” he murmurs, watching you carefully.

“I – I just don’t want you to do something you’ll regret.”

“That something being…?” He raises an eyebrow at you in a weirdly dangerous way, as if daring you to confirm his suspicions.

“Being w-with m-me. I guess.”

“I want you, you know,” it’s not a question. “Nobody else. Just you. I _need_ you.” He presses his lips to your skin and you practically swoon, attempting to press your hips against his, which proves rather difficult from your sitting position. He slides closer, pressing his dick to your stomach, which is good enough for you. “You’re like a drug. The most addictive, hindering, sweet, Aphrodisiastic drug that I could ever come across. And you got to me, Dave. But one hit isn’t enough.” Then he does it. He fucking sticks out his tongue and _licks_ your goddamned wrist and you swear to Jesus Christ that you could come in your pants right now. But you don’t want that. Holy fuck do you not want that.

You moan and clench your fist, trying not to push him off of you just so you can get to your dick and start masturbating. “I g-get your p-point. But p-please st-stop before I—” he moves your wrist away from his mouth. Instead, he puts his hands in your hair and crashes his lips against yours and the kiss is hot and intense and completely turning you on. Your hands don’t really know what to do, so you settle for resting them on Dirk’s thighs. Subconsciously your fingers twitch with the urge to fill your hands with an overflowing amount of smackable ass.

Dirk’s hands fall and roughly grab the hem of your shirt. You’re guessing he’s done with the teasing since he practically rips it off of you and chucks it in the far corner of your room. You laugh with surprise but Dirk pushes you backwards, causing you to land with a _humph_. You don’t move. You just lie and watch him watch you. He leans down and kisses you once before kissing his way down your jaw, down your neck, stopping to nip at your collarbones—which you might also consider an erogenous zone in some instances—before continuing down your chest. He gives both of your nipples a lick and a kiss, causing your hips to jolt off the bed, then makes his way across your ticklish ribs and stopping for a brief second at your belly button. His tongue dips in and out quickly and Jesus fucking Christ you know exactly what he’s imitating and it’s driving you _insane_.

He starts to undo your belt and continues to press soft kisses across your stomach. You feel the button and fly being undone and the adrenaline shoots through you; everything you’ve ever really wanted is being granted to you right now, and you’re absolutely terrified of what that means for your future. But you could also care less because if Dirk is with you, nothing can hurt you. Nothing.

You’re brought out of your trance when he starts to tug your pants down, not even bothering to leave your boxers on. When your dick springs free and the air hits it, you groan and close your eyes tightly, anticipating what is about to happen. When nothing happens for a few seconds, and everything is silent, you start to wonder if he’s even in the same room as you anymore. You cautiously crack one eye open and are pleasantly surprised, and equally embarrassed, to find him simply sitting there, staring at your body as if it were some alien deity.

“Dirk?” You ask quietly with hesitation in your voice. He lowers himself face to face with your erection and leans forward. You think he’s about to do the thing with his mouth and his tongue and Jesus Christ, but you are again surprised to find that he is resting his head against the bone of your hip, cheek barely brushing your cock… which actually tickles a lot, but you force yourself not to laugh because you can sense that something is wrong. “What’s wrong?”

“Tell me this is okay,” he says.

“What?”

“Tell me I’m not some perverted guy who’s forcing himself on his beautiful little brother. Tell me that this is okay.” You’re shocked but your hand reaches down and strokes his hair reassuringly before you say, “You should know better, Dirk. I’m not sure how this is going to work out, or if it’s going to work out at all, but I am positive that there is nobody else that I would rather be with. Nobody. I – I love you. I love everything about you including the fact that you’re my older brother. I know you’ll protect me and I know I’ll do my best to return the favor, but you don’t really need me the way I need you. If anything, _you_ should be telling _me_ that this is okay.”

You’re not sure how he’ll react, since you remember how he tends to react when you refer to yourself in negative manners, but one thing you did _not_ expect him to do is reach up and grab your extremely hard cock. You gasp and your stomach clenches. He lifts his head just slightly and starts to kiss the inside of your thigh. He moves to the juncture between your leg and your pelvis and nuzzles his face between your dick and your leg, inhaling deeply and you seriously can’t stand the torture anymore.

“Dirk please,” you whine, fist squeezing in his hair. He sighs and looks up at you with an expression you don’t recognize but you don’t have time to question it. The next second, he’s running his tongue across the head of your cock and your breath catches in your throat. His tongue darts out again, swiping the precome that had been leaking steadily from your slit. He takes the head in his mouth and sucks steadily.

You moan breathily but stop halfway to gasp as he takes more of your cock down his throat. Your hips jolt, but it doesn’t seem to bother him at all. In fact, it just encourages him to sink down further. When your dick knocks the back of his throat, he swallows and hums happily as you practically scream his name. He pulls back and sinks down again, using his hand to squeeze and twist and do deliciously evil things to you.

“ _Fuuuuuuck_ ,” you moan. “Oh God, oh my God. Fuck! Fuck you and your fucking mouth.” He hums and pulls off with a pop. He spits into his hand and continues to jack you off with an agonizing rate as he takes one of your balls in his mouth and softly massages it with his tongue. “Jesus Christ! Oh Lord! Fuckfuckfuck, fuuuuuck! Fuck your fucking _mouth_ , Dirk!”

He pulls away and looks at you, lust filling his eyes. “Do you wanna fuck my mouth, Dave?” And your entire body freezes, eyes stuck on his. He smirks and slows his hand to a lazy pace. You try to fuck his hand, but he holds you down, giving you a questioning look.  “I hope you know that once we do go all the way, I’ll never let you top. Take this chance while you can, baby brother.” And you don’t know why, but that is just the fucking _hottest_ thing that you have ever heard in your entire life.

“Get. Your mouth. On. My dick. _Now_.” He’s barely lowered himself before you’re thrusting into his mouth erratically, not even attempting to find some sort of rhythm. It just encourages you more when you hear Dirk hum approvingly, holding his head perfectly still even if you’re brutally fucking his mouth. His fucking _mouth_ , though. That hot, wet cavern of magic and sex and everything you want in life is covering your cock and it’s just too goddamned much.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God,” you moan over and over. “Fuck yeah – fuck… oh shit. Oh my fucking shit! Fuckfuckfuckfuck – you’re so fucking perfect with your stupid, perfect mouth oh – oh _Dirk_!” You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, you can feel the saliva and precome mixing together and dripping out of Dirk’s mouth down your thighs. You’re almost there. So fucking…

“Fuck! Pull off, dude I think I’m gonna – oh shit!” Dirk makes no attempt pull away when the white-hot spurts of come threaten and manage to spill down his throat. You lay there, panting so hard you think there’s no air even entering your lungs, and Dirk sits up, wiping his mouth and smiling at you. “Come here, asshole,” you tell him. He hovers over you and gives you the softest kiss in the entire universe and just ugh you can’t even stand how adorable he is.

“Did you really expect me to pull off?” He murmurs against your lips.

“No,” you reply. “Strider’s don’t back down from a challenge.”

“Damn right,” he smiles brilliantly down at you and then something occurs to you.

“What about…” your voice trails off as you glance down between you only to see that he no longer has an erection. “Um. I don’t know how to feel about that.” He follows your line of vision and starts laughing, but his face turns red and you see him act embarrassed for the first time in your life.

“Well I, er,” he falls on the pillow next to you, an arm still wrapped around you, cheek resting on your shoulder. “I kinda sorta… came… just hearing you say my name like that.” You cover your mouth to keep yourself from laughing and he kisses your shoulder in appreciation.

“Does that mean you have to take another shower?” You ask him, turning your head and looking at him with your eyebrows raised.

“Oh fuck no,” he mutters. “Hold on.” He stands up and awkwardly walks out the door only to return seconds later wearing different underwear with a towel in his hand. He throws it at you and you sit up, attempting to soak up a bit of the precome/saliva mixture that has pooled around your ass. You then realize that you’re still naked, but before you can grab a blanket or say something, Dirk has already thrown a pair of boxers at you. You look up at him and smile gratefully he returns your smile and waits for you to stand up and put on your underwear before pulling you into a hug, petting your hair and holding you as close as humanly possible.

Standing up has made you aware of how tired you are, not to mention you had been crying a while ago. You’re absolutely exhausted, and Dirk must sense this because he bends down and puts you over his shoulder before walking out the door and down the hall to his room. Normally you’d be protesting to being manhandled in such a manner, but you honestly couldn’t give less of a shit right now. The next thing you know, you’re being set down on his bed and he tells you to scoot over before settling down next to you and wrapping his arms around you protectively.

You feel as safe as can be and yawn before snuggling up next to him and kissing the only part of him that you can reach in your position; his shoulder. He kisses your cheek in return and you seriously underestimated how tired _he_ must be, because seconds after feeling his lips press to your cheek, you hear soft snores coming from him. You too are about to drift off to sleep when a thought occurs to you; a thousand times more tired than you were, your older brother—who isn’t much bigger than you—lifted you over his shoulder and carried you all the way to his room, setting you down more gently than he’s ever handled you in his life.

He used whatever energy he had left, if that’s _any_ , to make you as happy as possible and that? That’s more than you could have ever asked. You don’t know why, but before you let yourself get dragged under, you whisper, “Don’t ever leave me…”

You were positive that Dirk was asleep, but sure enough you faintly hear, “I won’t if you won’t.” And everything is dark.

 

**== > Stop Sleeping, Lazy Asshole!**

**== > Have a Panic Attack**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this chapter is okay. It was really difficult to write, sorry it took so long!


	6. ==> Have a Panic Attack

You are now Karkat Vantas, and you are having a panic attack. Your chest feels tight and your brain feels dead. You don’t know if you’re heart has stopped beating or if it’s just beating so fast you can’t feel it. You have been running down the street for five minutes, trying to catch your best friend who just went AWOL. You know this is your fault. If you had just kept your mouth shut, none of this would have happened. You would be happy in your home, and Gamzee would be safe, right beside you.

The street you’re on is abandoned, and you don’t see the branch that has blown into the road. You trip and fall, putting your hands out to try and stop you. This, however, only causes a sharp pain to shoot up your arm. As you’re lying there, holding your left arm close to your chest, you think it’s entirely possible that you have broken your wrist, and you’re positive that you have scraped 90% of the skin off of your palms and elbows along with possibly some skin on your knees. You don’t feel any of this pain. You just feel a dull throbbing coming from your extremities.

You’re much too physically exhausted to stand up, and you’re in no shape to keep running after him, but there is nothing in your mind that will deter you from getting to Gamzee. If anything were to happen to him. You start to cry silently, curling up into a ball and shivering from the sobs that are running through your body. You’re not crying because it hurts; you’re crying because the mere thought of something bad happening to your best friend…

A new fire ignites in your stomach and you roll over to sit up. You make a move to stand, but have foolishly put weight on your left hand which has left you howling in pain, twitching on the ground.

“Fuck,” you grit out between your teeth. When you try to stand up this time, you’re much more careful, and when you start to walk you discover that you have also sprained your ankle quite badly. _Whatever_ , you think. It’s still not as bad as the emotional turmoil you’re experiencing at the moment. All of the physical pain combined isn’t equal to how upset you are.

After a few minutes of walking, you realize that you’ve only made it to the end of the street and are momentarily impressed by how fast you must have been running. You’ve just turned onto your street but your house is still five minutes away. The pain and exhaustion starts to take over and you stumble a bit, swaying away from the sidewalk and towards the street, but you manage to stay on course.

Only three minutes away, you stumble once again, but this time you have no energy to stabilize yourself. You fall into the middle of the street and you don’t get up. You heart is still beating impossibly fast, there’s blood covering almost every inch of the front of your body, you just now realize that you forgot your shoes at home, and the cold is starting to seep through the adrenaline and cut into you like a knife. It must be 20 degrees outside.

You’re not positive of how long you were lying in the street, but you’re positive that you’re dying because gradually, a bright light shines in your face. There’s the sound of tires squealing on the pavement, but you don’t actually hear it. You do, however, hear the annoying voice of your older brother. Why would you be hearing him? Oh Gog. No… Jegus no! There’s no way that you’re dealing with Kankri in the afterlife, no matter if it’s Heaven or Hell.

You can feel your body being shaken violently and you faintly recognize the words being shouted into your face.

“ _Karkat! ...you okay?! Oh …Gog …be okay! …hear me? Hello? …awake?_ ” There’s a moment of pause. “ _Hello? 911? …driving down the …saw my brother lying in the middle of …a lot of blood …don’t know where it’s coming from …no, I don’t think he’s conscious …he’s breathing, but …pulse is just as weak and infrequent …down the street from …address is 48375 Beforus Road …kri Vantas …N – K – R – I, V – A – N – T …Karkat Va …K – A – R – K – A – T …long before they get here? …should I do in the …thank you. …Dad? Come outsi …the street! Please just do this! …kat is, well I don’t know …from the grocery store …just found him._ ”

The pain and his shouting and what you now realize are headlights shining in your eyes is just too much for you. Above everything else, you can still hear that voice shouting doubt in the back of your mind. _Gamzee is hurt. Gamzee is not okay. Gamzee is lost. Gamzee is important. Gamzee is your best friend. Gamzee cares about you. Gamzee is the only person you need in your life. Gamzee. Gamzee. Gamzee_.

It’s all you care about. You wouldn’t care if you were an inch from death as long as he was safe, but if you go away, who’s going to try and find him? Gamzee has had a few days where he keeps to himself, but he’s never dropped off the map the way he has now. He doesn’t have any friends and his parents are gone and his brother is at school… there’s nobody but you and maybe your family. You can’t be positive, but you think that if Kankri knew you almost killed yourself to try and save Gamzee, he’d help you.

Right before the shock of the pain consumes you, there’s one last thought that you have decided to put all of your focus onto.

 _If Gamzee is okay, then so am I_.

 

**== > Pass Out, Don’t Bleed Out**

**== > Be a Concerned Older Brother**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short and is a segue into the next part of the story. Sorry to leave any of you hanging! Little Karkitty is okay, I promise! Gamzee is too ^_^ Next chapter is some CronKri feels and probably some GamKar feels--I might still have them unconscious so...


	7. ==> Be a Concerned Older Brother

You are now Kankri Vantas and you are a rather concerned older brother. Your little brother has gone and done Gog-knows-what and is now in the hospital. You don’t even know what to think anymore, and neither does your father. According to him, there was some yelling, a thud, and then Karkat was chasing Gamzee down the stairs and out the door, and apparently Karkat was moving at an impossible speed since he couldn’t run after him.

The doctors have informed you that Karkat is not going to die, but easily could have if he had been outside in the cold for even ten more minutes. If you hadn’t gone to the grocery store, there’s a good chance that you never would have found him… the thought terrifies you to the point of crying.

And that’s exactly what you’re doing, sitting in the waiting room of the ER. You’re crying. Hysterically. And nobody can calm you down. You just have to let it all out, which you discover is only a five minute engagement. After that, you look down at the object you’ve been holding in your hands; it’s Karkat’s cell phone. You had figured that you should probably text all of Karkat’s friends and tell them about what happened, but you hadn’t been able to until now since you were crying and shaking too hard to navigate the phone.

Now that you’re perfectly coherent, you figure you can go ahead and contact all of Karkat’s friends… well, all of the people he talks to on an irregular basis.

 

To: grimAuxiliatrix  
From: Karkat Vantas  
 _Hey Kanaya. This is Kankri. Karkat has had  
_ _an accident and he’s at Alternia H9spital.  
_ _I figured he’d want y9u t9 kn9w._

* * *

 

To: gallowsCalibrator  
From: Karkat Vantas  
 _Terezi, this is Kankri. Karkat has had  
_ _an accident. He’s at Alternia H9spital.  
_ _I figured he’d want y9u t9 kn9w._

* * *

 

To: twinArmageddons  
From: Karkat Vantas  
 _Hell9 S9llux, this is Karkat’s br9ther.  
_ _Karkat has had an accident and he’s at  
_ _Alternia H9spital.  
_ _I figured he’d want y9u t9 kn9w._

* * *

 

To: adiosToreador  
From: Karkat Vantas  
 _Hi Tavr9s. This is Kankri, Karkat’s br9ther.  
_ _Karkat has had an accident and he’s at  
_ _Alternia H9spital.  
_ _I figured he’d want y9u t9 kn9w._

* * *

 

To: terminallyCapricious  
From: Karkat Vantas  
 _Gamzee. This is Kankri. I kn9w y9u and Karkat  
_ _had a fight, 6ut when Karkat ran after y9u,  
_ _s9mething 6ad happened t9 him. He’s at  
_ _Alternia H9spital.  
_ _I figured he’d want y9u t9 kn9w._

* * *

 

The next thing you do is take out your own phone to alert anyone else you think may want to know of the accident, but decide to phrase it in a way that doesn’t sound so nerve wracking.

 

To:  aresnicCatnip  
From: Kankri Vantas  
      _Hell9 Nepeta. I am just inf9rming  
_ _pe9ple 9f the fact that Karkat is  
_ _a 6it sick and s9 I might n9t 6e  
_ _at sch99l f9r a few days._

* * *

To:  damagedMenace  
From: Kankri Vantas  
      _Damara, I am staying h9me f9r a few  
_ _days f9r family reas9ns. I will n9t  
_ _6e a6le t9 tut9r y9u in English  
_ _until next week. I am s9rry._

* * *

 

To:  loyalPragmatist  
From: Kankri Vantas  
      _Latula, I am just inf9rming  
_ _pe9ple 9f the fact that Karkat is  
_ _a 6it sick and s9 I might n9t 6e  
_ _at sch99l f9r a few days. . ._

* * *

 

To:  metalPacifist  
From: Kankri Vantas  
      _Meenah, my y9unger br9ther is sick  
_ _and I am taking care 9f him. I kn9w  
_ _y9u have d9ne this f9r me in the  
_ _past, 6ut c9uld y9u p9ssibly bring  
_ _me my h9mew9rk for the next tw9  
_ _sch99l days? Thank y9u._

* * *

 

To:  pseudoMessenger  
From: Kankri Vantas  
      _P9rrim, Karkat is in the h9spital.  
_ _It is quite upsetting.  
_ _I will n9t be at sch99l._

* * *

 

To:  turntechGodhead  
From: Kankri Vantas  
      _Dave, I d9n’t kn9w h9w y9u’re  
_ _feeling t9wards me at the m9ment,  
_ _6ut Karkat is in the h9spital and  
_ _I need t9 take care 9f him. I w9n’t  
_ _6e a6le t9 drive y9u t9 Best Buy.  
_ _S9rry._

* * *

 

To:  gardenGnostic  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _Jade, Karkat is very sick and needs  
_ _help fr9m me, whether he wants it 9r  
_ _n9t, s9 I cann9t be y9ur practice as  
_ _y9ur partner f9r the academic  
_ _decathal9n. I am truly s9rry._

* * *

 

Now that you’ve taken care of that, you figure you can stand up and stretch a bit. You’ve been sitting for a long time and you just want to stretch a bit. Of course, you aren’t aware that simply sending those ten text messages would end up alerting everyone you knew…

Both Jade and Dave would end up telling John Egbert and Rose Lalonde. Dave would tell Dirk and Dirk would tell Horuss Zahhak and Horuss would tell his younger brother Equius. Sollux would tell his older brother Mituna, Nepeta would tell her older sister Meulin, Meulin would tell Gamzee’s brother Kurloz, Meenah would tell her younger sister Feferi—who would also find out from Dave and Terezi.

Damara would tell her younger sister Aradia, but she would also tell her best friend Rufioh Nitram—who would also find out from his younger brother Tavros. Porrim would tell Aranea Serket who would tell her younger sister Vriska. (Porrim would probably also ask her younger sister Kanaya about it.) Feferi would tell Eridan Ampora, and Eridan would then tell his older brother Cronus.

Everyone knew.

John, Rose, Jade, Dirk, Aradia, Damara, Tavros, Rufioh, Sollux, Mituna, Nepeta, Meulin, Kanaya, Porrim, Terezi, Latula, Vriska, Aranea, Equius, Horuss, Feferi, Meenah, Eridan, Cronus, and Kurloz. The only person who wouldn’t know would be the only person who should really know. Gamzee Makara would have no clue, but that’s okay because Karkat would have no idea either.

It only takes ten minutes for the news to spread like wildfire, and the next thing you know, you’re getting a million texts from everyone asking if he’s okay, if you’re okay, if you can tell them what happened. You assure everyone that you’re okay, he’s going to be okay, and that you can’t say anything more unless you talk to Karkat first; you knew he was already going to kill you for just telling people what had happened in the first place.

However, then you get a flurry of text messages, that you were definitely _not_ expecting to receive, from one highly concerned, very flustered and upset Cronus Ampora.

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _hey are you okay?! i heard about your  
_ _brother. is he okay too?? he’s not like  
_ _gonna die or anything, right?!_

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _but you. . . you’re gonna be fine, aint  
_ _you? aint you?! oh gog wvhat the fuck  
_ _happened?_

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _no wvait!  
_ _don’t tell me_

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _i don’t wvanna knovw, and i don’t need  
_ _to knovw. not my business_  

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _unless you’re injured_

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
      _then it is my business_

* * *

 

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
      _Cr9nus, please calm d9wn. I a highly  
_ _c9ncerned f9r your safety and bl99d  
_ _pressure. Yes, I am perfectly 9kay  
_ _except f9r feeling rather shaken._

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _It’s just n9t s9mething y9u want t9  
_ _see. . . y9ur y9unger br9ther lying  
_ _in the middle 9f the r9ad._

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _It was h9rri6le, 6ut at least he’s  
_ _safe n9w. H9wever, I w9uld like t9  
_ _inf9rm y9u that I am extremely happy  
_ _that y9u refrained fr9m n9rmal,  
_ _s9cietal 6ehavi9ur and kept y9ur  
_ _questi9ns t9 y9urself. Thank y9u  
_ _very much._

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _Then again, y9ur 9verwhelming  
_ _c9ncern f9r me is quite abn9rmal  
_ _given the current nature 9f 9ur  
_ _relati9nship._

* * *

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _“the nature of our relationship”??  
_ _i wvasn’t awvare that wve wvere in  
_ _a relationship. . ._

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _not that i’m complaining!_

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _no, that’s the exact opposite of how  
_ _i feel actually. i wvould vwery much  
_ _like to be in a relationship wvith you_

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _jegus. christ.  
_ _ignore that. please_

* * *

 

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _S9 y9u d9 n9t wish t9 6e in a  
_ _relati9nship with me?_

* * *

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _that’s not wvhat i meant.  
_ _of COURSE i wvanna be in a relationship  
_ _wvith you, but it’s 2:30 AM and i’m just  
_ _being stupid so please ignore it._

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _I w9uld hardly call y9ur behavi9ur “stupid”.  
_ _Perhaps “irrati9nal” is a 6etter w9rd. I  
_ _mean, t9 say that a relati9nship c9uld 6e  
_ _f9rmed s9 quickly is a very unintelligent  
_ _thing to say._

* * *

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _so you’d be wvilling to date me. . .  
_ _after getting to knovw me??_

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _I supp9se that is what I am saying.  
_ _But y9u did say it y9urself: it’s 2:30 in  
_ _the m9rning. Perhaps my inhibiti9ns are a  
_ _little inebriated at the m9ment. I 6elieve  
_ _that I will have t9 get back t9 y9u 9n that._

* * *

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _don’t get my hopes up, chief_

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _I am rather s9rry f9r any false implicati9ns  
_ _that I may have presented._

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _H9wever, I d9 have a questi9n.  
_ _In this entire 9rdeal, have y9u disc9vered  
_ _my name and y9u just haven’t said it yet?  
_ _9r are y9u still unaware 9f my identity?_

* * *

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
      _i specifically asked Eridan not to tell me  
_ _your name. if i’m gonna find out, i wvant  
_ _YOU to tell me. nobody else_

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _Hmm. Interesting. I like y9u, Cr9nus Amp9ra.  
_ _Y9u’re different, and I find that fascinating.  
_ _It als9 d9es n9t hurt that y9ur physical  
_ _appearance is extremely engaging, and y9ur  
_ _attitude is fairly charming._

* * *

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _you ain’t too bad either, chief_

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _Well thank y9u, 6ut it is rather late and y9u  
_ _sh9uld pr96a6ly 6e getting t9 6ed. I kn9w that  
_ _earlier I pr9mised that y9u MIGHT see me  
_ _t9m9rr9w, 6ut I am staying h9me t9 take care  
_ _9f Karkat since he will 6e tremend9usly  
_ _exhausted. He will als9 6e m99dy and  
_ _unappreciative 9f my help. . ._

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _S9 g99dnight. Sleep well._

* * *

 

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _if you gotta go, then you gotta go :/  
_ _but i got an idea! i’ll text you tomorrovw  
_ _and then you can complain to me about any  
_ _stress you’re feelin_

* * *

 

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _That’s an excellent idea.  
_ _I’ll l99k f9rward t9 it._

 

**== > Stop Being a Concerned Older Brother**

**== > Let It Be Tomorrow Already**


	8. ==> Let It Be Tomorrow Already

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay well, as it turns out, I didn't post a duplicate, I just forgot to put this chapter in! Oops!

It is now early Friday morning and there are many students preparing for school. Behind closed doors, Eridan Ampora steals another five minutes of rest and Cronus Ampora steals a moment alone to grab a cigarette. Dave Strider wakes up in the arms of his older brother and feels morning wood pressing into his back. He then pushes Dirk over and makes out with him, jacking him off lazily and easily.

Kankri Vantas wakes up in his bed with the sound of his brother’s voice carrying through the hallways. Karkat, after being released from the hospital only two hours ago, is much too exhausted and injured to get out of bed, but that doesn’t stop him from screaming that he needs to see his best friend. Kankri does his best to try and calm Karkat down, and despite how childish this idea is, the only thing that shuts him up is ice cream. While scooping a third bowl for Karkat to just end up crying into and downing in seconds flat, Kankri let’s his mind wander.

What the hell was up with him last night? Was he actually flirting with Cronus Ampora? Was he actually entertaining the idea of a relationship? He must have been delirious. Truly delirious. Gog. He really was, wasn’t he? Then again, he doesn’t _really_ feel bad about flirting… he just knows that he should. Maybe now is as good as ever to start a relationship.

On the other hand, Kankri really likes Cronus. Kankri is a hopeless romantic who believes in true love. What if he starts to date Cronus and then Cronus realizes he doesn’t want to be with Kankri anymore? What if Cronus thinks that he’s too annoying because he talks too much? There are so many things to take into consideration that it makes Kankri’s brain hurt.

He climbs the steps slowly and hesitates before knocking on Karkat’s door. There’s no sound, but he didn’t really expect one. His hand grasps the doorknob and he enters, holding the bowl in front of him like a peace offering. The younger Vantas is sitting in his bed arms crossed and a pout on his face.

“Karkat,” Kankri says quietly, moving to hand his brother the bowl. “I know you want to see Gamzee. I know this is hard. We’ll find him. I promise we will.” Kankri knows that he shouldn’t make promises he can’t keep, but he’s starting to miss the old Karkat. The one who was just angry instead of sad _and_ angry. The one who had a friend who liked him and whom he liked. Gamzee was more important to the Vantas family than anyone had ever realized.

“You can’t promise jackshit,” Karkat mutters, taking the bowl and staring into it. Kankri knows he won’t take even one bite until he’s dropped at least one tear into it, and right now Karkat is not in the mood to cry. Not even close.

“Well I’m sorry you feel that way,” Kankri mutters, turning around to leave.

“Wait,” Karkat’s voice sounds small. Kankri turns around and looks at his brother with caution and hesitation. “Kankri, I’m only about to say this because I’m in an emotionally compromised situation but…” he takes a deep breath, still staring down into his bowl. “I’m glad you’re here for me especially since Gamzee – since Gamzee—” he starts to cry and Kankri feels horrible.

Part of him wanted to hug Karkat, but the other part of him knew that doing that was a possibly lethal action. Karkat was being very nice and vulnerable, but Kankri could recognize a bear trap when he saw it; pretty flowers and shrubbery on the outside, but walk up to that somebitch, put your hand in and _bam_. Game over.

“It’s okay,” Kankri says, smiling slightly. “I’ll be back in a little bit. Do you want me to put in _Love Actually_ for you?” Karkat glares at him but then his face melts into shame and he nods. Kankri doesn’t comment, but moves to the television and puts in the DVD. Then he gets up and hands the remote to Karkat before leaving and closing the door behind him. His phone buzzes and he takes it out, curiously.

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _howv’re you feelin, chief?_

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _Tired. Karkat g9t released 9nly tw9  
_ _h9urs ag9. . . and he hasn’t let me  
_ _sleep at all. I’ve 6een awake since  
_ _5:00 AM yesterday. That’s 28 h9urs._

* * *

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _awvwv. sorry about that. hey wvhat  
_ _are you doing right nowv??_

* * *

 

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _Taking care 9f my br9ther? I  
_ _th9ught y9u knew that._

* * *

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _gog i knowv that. are you ACTIVWELY  
_ _taking care of him right nowv?_

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _I supp9se n9t. Why?_

* * *

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _do you wvanna. . . hang out?_

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _Are y9u asking if y9u can c9me  
_ _9ver t9 my h9use? That’s rather  
_ _inappr9priate, d9n’t y9u think?_

* * *

 To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _wvell you did say that i had to  
_ _get to knowv you, right?_

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _I did say that, didn’t I? Wait.  
_ _Aren’t y9u at sch99l right n9w?_

* * *

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
 _nah. i just decided to not go._

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Has a Stupid Face  
From: Kankri Vantas  
      _Why?! You just DECIDED t9 n9t g9?_

* * *

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Is Stupid  
 _kinda. also my classes are either  
_ _wvatching movwies today or  
_ _they’re study halls._

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Is Stupid  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _But still! Y9u just decided t9  
_ _stay h9me. Why w9uld y9u d9  
_ _that?_

* * *

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Is Stupid  
 _i’ll tell you once i get to  
_ _your house. . ._

* * *

To: Cronus Ampora Is Stupid  
From: Kankri Vantas  
      _Fine_. _48375 Beforus Road. . ._

* * *

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Is Stupid  
 _^_^ thanks, cutie_

* * *

 To: Cronus Ampora Is Stupid  
From: Kankri Vantas  
      _If y9u start t9 get weird, I’m  
_ _sending y9u h9me._

* * *

 To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Cronus Ampora Is Stupid  
 _point wvell taken_

 

**== > Stop This Omnipotence Shit**

**== > Be Flustered and Nervous**


	9. ==> Be Flustered and Nervous

You are now one flustered and nervous Kankri Vantas. You honestly cannot believe yourself; you just invited a boy over to your house, and you have no idea how this stuff is supposed to work or how it even happens. Society could even consider this to be a date… but it’s not! You can’t go on a date with someone you’re not _dating_ right? Right? Fuck.

After finishing your conversation with Cronus, you had gone back to Karkat’s room to confront him. “Hey, I have a friend coming over,” you say nervously. “Are you okay with that?” You really hope he is because if he’s not? Well, tough luck.

Karkat looks at you suspiciously, “A friend?” He says it as if the term is completely foreign on his tongue. You’ve never really had _friends_ before, so this must be as new for him as it is for you, which is really sad when you think about it.

“Well,” you start. “It’s not really a friend. Do you know who Cronus Ampora is?”

He seems to perk up at this, “Do I know – _Everyone_ knows who Cronus Ampora is. The guy is one of the most popular kids in school!” Then he stares at you incredulously, “Are you trying to tell me that you’re _friends_ with him?” For the first time since last night, Karkat seems interesting in something other than crying into a bowl of chocolate ice cream, and that really makes you happy.

“He was – er…” Now the difficulty is telling your brother that you were hit on by a guy and you liked it. A lot. It’s not as easy as it might seem. “Karkat, can I tell you something?” He rolls his eyes at you; yeah, it was a dumb question. You clear your throat, “I’m… you know how I’ve never had a girlfriend?”

Karkat bursts out laughing. “Is this you finally coming out of the closet?”

You feel yourself blush, “Obviously I’m not good at keeping things secret.”

“No,” Karkat confirms. “You’re really not. You’re also not very good at erasing your internet history…” your eyes go wide and you cannotbelieve that just happened. However, Karkat doesn’t seem to be phased in the slightest. “So what about Cronus Ampora?”

“He was rather interested in my availability when I was at the store,” you tell him, trying to ignore the fact that you’re blushing like a maniac.

Karkat’s jaw drops, “Is this a date?”

“No!” You exclaim, blushing even deeper. “You know I’d never just _date_ someone.”

“Ah, that’s right,” Karkat starts, nodding his head solemnly. “You’d have to be friends for, like, a million years before you could be together, right?”

“Shut – stop it, Karkat!” You stamp your foot and pout. “Do not make fun of the way I live my life just because they’re different than yours!”

“Jegus Christ, Kankri!” He rolls his eyes, “I’m not making fun of you.” Then he hunkers down to finish _Love Actually_. You turn to leave, but just before you close the door, he says, “Have fun on your date, Kankass.” You can’t find it within yourself to retort.

In your living room, you’re pacing back and forth when suddenly you hear a knock on the door. You jump slightly and then start to wonder if this was a very bad idea. However, you can’t go back on your word now. You walk over to the door and brace yourself before grabbing the knob and turning it.

Standing before you is a tall boy with dark, slicked back hair, deep blue eyes, his nose is red from the obnoxiously cold weather, and his smile is blinding. His skin looks so fucking smooth, and you kinda wanna just touch him… what? No. You did _not_ just think that!

Cronus winks at you, “Heya cutie.”

Your expression remains blank, “I told you, Cronus. If you get weird, I’m sending you home.” All he does is smile and push past you, toeing off his shoes by the door and waiting for you to lead him to… you’re not really sure where. You figure the living room.

“I understand that,” he muses. “But what else am I supposed to call you?”

“I – I—” you start then you sigh and lead him to the living room. You sit down on the couch and fold your hands in your lap. He sits down next to you and looks at you expectantly. You bite your lip, contemplating what you should say. “Everyone tells me that I am bad at expressing my emotions, but if you just listen—”

“How ‘bout you just tell me?” He asks softly. Normally you’d go off on him for interrupting you; you’d say something about manners and how he doesn’t have any of them and how annoying it is when someone talks when you’re talking, but you decide not to since he really looks… interested in what you have to say.

“I don’t mind the idea of telling you my name,” you say slowly, twiddling your thumbs nervously. “However, the only thing keeping you remotely interested in me is the fact that you don’t know who I am.” You realize how pathetic you sound, but for the first time in your life, you really don’t know what to say.

Cronus holds up a hand to stop you, “Chief, you are one big, amazing ball of interesting. I can promise, there’s more I wanna know about you than just your name.” It’s slightly more reassuring, but you still worry that he’ll leave you – wait a second. Did you just think that you were worried that he would _leave_ you? What the fuck? He’s not your stupid boyfriend!

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and look at him. “What could you possibly want to know about me?” You ask hesitantly, looking at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Everything, I guess.” Cronus shrugs. _Really?_ You think. That’s the answer he settled on? It’s extremely frustrating, really. You imagine that everything covers _everything_ , but do you really want to tell another human being your deepest secrets. Yeah, it might be nice… at first. But do you really want someone walking around with the knowledge that you get turned on by hugs from behind and kisses on your neck? No, you didn’t think so either.

“I just do not see what the big deal is.” He looks at you with confusion in his expression. “There are so many ways to figure out who I am. You probably _could_ just ask Eridan. After all, we have talked to each other before plenty of times.” He seems surprised at the new information and you can see it in his face; why would Eridan be talking to you? Well that’s a good question! It was the first day of high school and the two of you were in the same physical education class. On the way out of the locker room you hear someone calling after you.

“Hey! Hey you!” You turn around, looking for the source of the voice and you see a boy walking towards you with something in his hand. “You dropped your phone,” he holds it out to you and you take it from him gratefully.

“Oh, thank you.” You smile at him.

He smiles back, “It’s Kankri, right?” You nod. “I’m Eridan.”

“Nice to meet you, Eridan. Thank you, once again.”

“Sure, no problem,” he smiles again and turns to leave, waving to you. After that day, the two of you gravitated towards each other during any classes you had together. You never really talked, and you never really considered yourselves friends, but you were always there and so was he. But now that you think about it, you guess you _could_ consider Eridan Ampora as your first friend in high school, and that’s pretty cool.

“You might not understand, and I don’t wanna freak you out,” Cronus starts, “but I’ve known that you’ve existed for the last three years. All that time I didn’t overhear your name, and nobody talked about you to me. After the first two years I decided that I just _had_ to have _you_ tell me who you were. Otherwise I’m nothing but the guy who grew fond of you for three years and never took the chance to actually get to know you.” By the time he’s finished speaking, Cronus isn’t looking at you anymore. He’s just kinda looking down into his lap, scratching the back of his neck, blushing furiously. You’re touched. Honestly you really are. You had understood that people could feel that way, but you never thought someone would feel that way about you, and now that you look at Cronus, you realize that if you had seen him three years ago, you probably would have felt the same exact way. Why is that?

Because he’s fucking beautiful, that’s why. He’s beautiful and he’s charming and oh Gog are you seriously starting to feel this way? Well it’s not just because he’s appealing on the outside;  when you complimented him, he didn’t say ‘ _yeah, I know_ ’ or ‘ _duh_ ’. He acts confident and snarky, but he’s actually rather shy and modest for someone of his social status, and you think that’s pretty awesome. You blush at your own thoughts and shake your head to clear your mind.

“Kankri,” you say quietly. Cronus sits up straighter and smiles brilliantly and really you feel yourself kind of melt. “Kankri Vantas…”

 He leans back into the couch and smiles slightly, “Kankri…” you hear him repeat. Then he smirks at you and leans a little closer, “Y’know _Kankri Vantas_ ,” oh Gog you can already tell he’s going to have plenty of fun with that. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

Originally, you had imagined that once you told Cronus who you were, he would just get up and leave. But now you can heave a sigh of relief because this is a lot less stressful than you had thought. He actually wanted to _know_ things about you.

“Did you have anything in mind?” You’re smiling like a maniac but you really can’t help yourself; he’s just so goddamned amazing and you’re really glad you let him come over.

“Well,” he drawls, pulling away from you slightly, and you’re really thankful for that because you were starting to get dizzy. “I did say I wanted to know _everything_ , but we can start with the basics, I guess. Like, when’s your birthday?”

“July 13th,” then you pause. “What about you?”

“February 14th,” he says quietly, blushing again.

“Wow,” you laugh. “Your birthday is Valentine’s Day?”

“Hey,” he smiles, “There are worse holidays to have your birthday on!”

“An example would be?”

“Christmas.” He says flatly.

“That is rather horrid,” you laugh again. “Next question?”

“Your favourite colour is…?”

“Red. Yours?”

“Purple…” okay his answers are just hilarious and you can’t help but burst out laughing _again_. “Y’know,” he says. “I’m starting to think that you _want_ me to leave.” But he’s smiling, so you don’t really take him seriously. However, he should know you’re not judging him. His answers are just really hilarious. “Okay next question. What’s your favourite movie?” Then his eyes go wide, and you can guess that he wasn’t thinking before he asked and his answer must be awesome. But you focus on your answer first.

“Hm. I do suppose I have grown rather fond of my brother’s collection of romantic comedies. So possibly The Proposal? Then again I like science fantasy quite a lot. I’ll say Star Trek: The Next Generation. You?”

“Uh…” his face goes red and he bites his lip.

“Are you embarrassed, Cronus?” You ask with a smirk.

“No! I just – okay, it’s a little embarrassing.”

“I just told you I like rom-coms and sci-fi and what _you_ have to say is embarrassing?”

“I get it!” He rolls his eyes. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I promise.” You’re already giggling a little.

“Kankri,” he gives you a knowing look and you curse yourself for the flutter you feel in your stomach when he says your name. You mime zipping your lips and nod. He hesitates a little before saying, “Grease…”

“Grease?” You ask slowly. “Like, the musical?”

“Yes,” he mutters begrudgingly. “You promised you wouldn’t laugh.”

“I’m not!” However, you’re smiling so it’s not very convincing.

“Jerk,” he playfully shoulders you and smiles. You’re about to say something else when you hear a voice upstairs cry your name rather pitifully. You look up at the ceiling and groan in frustration. Cronus looks at you and smiles, “Karkat?”

“Yes,” you reply as you stand up. “I’ll be right back.”

“Can I—” when you turn to look at him he flushes again; he’s doing an awful lot of that and you are slightly worried that there’s too much blood rushing to his face, but you’re also concerned because you have no idea why he’d be blushing in the first place.

You quirk your head to the side, “Can you what?”

“I was just going to ask if I could meet your brother…” he stands up but crosses his arms over his chest and hunches his shoulders in what seems to be an attempt to make himself smaller. It only makes sense to you because you know a lot about the instincts of animals to make themselves smaller when they’re trying to hide from another animal that’s spooked them. You know that animals and humans aren’t the same, but they’re more alike than people realize.

You shrug, “Normally I would refuse to unleash his fury upon anyone new to this house, but he’s in a rather emotionally compromised state at the moment.” You smile at him, “I think it would be safe.”

“You gotta get him ice cream, right?” He smiles brightly when you nod in affirmation. “Okay, you go do that and I’ll be upstairs.” Before you can even protest, he’s running up the stairs and you can’t help but roll your eyes in what you think is fondness. Cronus may be one of the popular kids at school but he is one of the biggest dorks on the planet, and you really love that about him. As you go to the kitchen you start to think that maybe he wouldn’t be such a bad idea; maybe you kinda need him in your life. Well… _need_ is a little strong. You don’t really _need_ anyone or anything. You’re independent and stubborn like that.

Ice cream in hand, you make your way up the stairs and when you turn right into Karkat’s room… you see something you’d never expect to see in a million years. Cronus is sitting on the bed next to Karkat, legs stretched out in front of him, arm around Karkat’s shoulders, and they’re both _laughing_. What the hell? Like, there is a legitimate smile on your brother’s face. This is not a drill! I repeat: THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

“Hey Kankri,” Karkat smirks at you. “I think your boyfriend is pretty cool.”

Intense anger flares up inside of you, “He is _not_ my—” but you don’t think you should argue; somehow, this stranger has made peace with the most stubborn human to ever exist, and that is a miracle in itself. You’ve always believed in signs from the universe, and if this wasn’t a sign, you didn’t know what was. Cronus may or may not end up being your boyfriend, but he plays some part in your life if fucking _Karkat_ approves of him. However, that doesn’t stop you from being annoyed beyond belief that Karkat would assume you’re dating Cronus, and you’re also peeved that Cronus—who knows how touchy you are about that subject—didn’t correct him. You walk up to Karkat and shove the bowl into his hands, grabbing the empty one off the bedside table.

“Good,” you say. “Good Karkat, I was hoping you would.” Then you turn and leave. As you’re walking down the hall you can hear Karkat snicker, ‘ _Ooo, you’re in trouble. Better go after him, Cronus_.’ You roll your eyes and walk a little faster. You’re setting the dirty bowl in the sink when Cronus walks into the kitchen, his expression rather sheepish.

“I’m sorry,” he says. You’re still angry, but he just sounds so goddamned genuine.

“Whatever,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest and refusing to look at him.

He takes another step towards you and hesitates before asking, “Kankri? Can I – can I hug you?” You and your stubbornness refuse to even dignify that with an answer, even though you (once Cronus mentioned it) really wanted to hug him… He looks really warm and safe. But for some odd reason you just can _not_ get over what happened upstairs. Maybe it’s because you really do like Cronus and you don’t want your relationship to start with peer pressure from your brother. Maybe it’s because you like him _so much_ that you don’t want to risk getting hurt. Maybe it’s because you know that Cronus lives in a different world than you do, and once he gets to know you, he may not like you anymore.

You know he’s still waiting for an answer, and you can’t say yes, but you also can’t say no. So you don’t say anything, and you stand there stubbornly. You can hear him sigh and you see him move closer. He gently grabs your shoulder and turns you to face him, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you lightly. You don’t want to give in, but he’s just as warm as he looks and he just fucking smells _so nice_ that you can’t even refuse him anymore.

Your arms make their way around his torso and you’re no longer in control of your body; your hands grasp the back of his shirt and you take a step forward, you knees knocking his slightly. Your head lays flat against his chest and you can hear his heartbeat. It’s uneven and fast and at first you don’t realize it, but then it hits you that _you’re_ making it do that. You’re the reason he’s nervous right now, and you may have doubted him before, but there’s no way he can fake a heartbeat. You can feel him kiss the top of your head and his arms fall to his sides, “Maybe I should just go…” he tries to move, but you won’t let him.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you tell him quietly.

He stills for a second before replying, “Whatever you want, Kankri.” He wraps his arms around you again. You don’t say it but it’s him, you think. You want him.

 

**== > Alright, You’re Disgustingly In Love. We Get It.**

**== > Be Content and Happy**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww! What cuties ^_^


	10. ==> Be Content and Happy

You are still Kankri Vantas, and you are now content and happy. After finishing _Love Actually_ , Karkat had fallen fast asleep leaving time for you to and Cronus to do… whatever you guys wanted, really. You settled on watching a movie. More specifically:  Princess Diaries. Both of them. You’re watching it partly because you couldn’t find any interesting movies and partly because when Cronus was looking at your DVD collection and got abnormally excited when he found it. You _do_ like rom-coms so you guess it works for you… there is no other reason you would be watching it. Maybe.

He’s lying on the couch with his ankles crossed over the arm of the couch and his head is in your lap. You secretly love Princess Diaries so much that you hardly even notice that Cronus is there. You don’t notice when he glances at you with an abnormal fondness. You _definitely_ don’t notice that the fingers on your left hand thread through his hair and your right hand is cupping the side of his face, your fingers lightly stroking his cheek.

Cronus certainly notices. He’s not even watching the movie anymore; he’s staring up at you, watching you with wide eyes and a look of awe on his face, blushing deeply. Slowly, your fingers start to massage his scalp and his eyes fall closed, utter content washing over him. So content that he actually starts to _purr_ like a cat; a deep rumbling in his chest that reminded you of a snoring lion. The noise isn’t even what catches your attention, it’s the vibrations running through his chest, in his throat, and up your arm. You look down in surprise and blush more than humanly possible when you notice how intimate you’ve just acted with a stranger.

Then again, you can’t really consider Cronus to be a _stranger_. You knew a lot about each other, and he just felt right. The thought of him felt right. He made you complete. You always knew you were a hopeless romantic, but you never imagined you would ever be in this situation, especially with someone like Cronus… he’s just kinda perfect in every way. Of course not literally; that’s physically impossible.

When you had looked down, your hands stilled and you thought he would sense your hesitation, but he actually seems to legitimately _asleep_ right now.  You just put someone to sleep, and not because you were boring them, but because they felt so contented and comfortable around you that they completely let down their guard. That’s a miracle, to be honest.

You can’t help but stare as your hands resume their activities and see a smile flicker across his lips for a brief second. Gog he’s just so beautiful. You seriously want to just kiss him right now, but you won’t. You probably won’t go that far anytime soon.

Suddenly he stirs, mumbling something incoherent. His eyebrows knit together in restlessness and his head turns, eventually pressing half of his face into the soft material of your sweater. He must be having a nightmare, which briefly saddens you. Then you stroke the side of his face, pushing hair off of his forehead and tucking a piece behind his ear, leaving your fingers to trail lightly down the line of his jaw and back up his cheek.

Cronus’ skin is certainly just as soft, if not softer, than it looks. It’s like touching a fucking cloud or something, and you smile slightly, caressing the shell of his ear. You feel him shudder and faintly hear, “Kan – kri…”

Surprised and slightly embarrassed, you think he’s woken up. After a second, he says your name again and his arm finds its way over his head, letting his fingers brush your ribs. His hand lands directly on top of yours, and you rearrange them so that your fingers are entwined with his. You honestly want this to last forever, but when you look at the clock, it reads 1:30 PM. You don’t know where the time went; Cronus has been over for 4 hours already, and you don’t want him to leave, but you don’t want to wake him up and you can’t just sit there. You figure you can watch the last hour of Princess Diaries 2 and then you’ll—very carefully—move Cronus off of you and do some of your homework. You’re starving, but you’re going to wait until he wakes up to make anything because it’s not really fair if you don’t.

It is now 2:40 PM and the movie is over. You have moved Cronus off of your lap and put a pillow under his head in your stead. Now you are sitting on the floor of the living room, many papers spread out around you, and you’re furiously working on your AB Calculus homework because you never really got to finish it yesterday. Not only that, but your teacher puts the assignments for the week up on his website every Monday.

You had found out what you were missing today and decided to finish that as well.

Every once in a while, Cronus would make pained noises and in place of waking him up, you just quickly crawled over to the couch and stroked his face to try and soothe him, and it always worked. Whenever you were near him, his face would find its way to your sweater like a fucking magnet or some shit, and he started to whine so often that you eventually got frustrated and just took it off and gave it to him, leaving you in your white t-shirt.

He didn’t make another sound.

 At 3:30 PM your stomach complained rather loudly and painfully to the lack of food it was experiencing. You just rubbed it and sighed in frustration; you were trying to be a good person by letting Cronus sleep but you were metaphorically about to die. On the other hand, you weren’t completely finished with your homework… you figured that you would finish it and then go into the kitchen and start making something, praying to every higher power that Cronus just woke up on his own.

Sure enough, at 5:37 PM you were in the kitchen, boiling water, and you heard a noise behind you. You turned around to see exactly what it was and you’re guiltlessly happy to see Cronus standing there, rubbing his eyes tiredly, your sweater over his shoulder like a blanket.

“Hey Kanny,” he yawns; you’re surprised but you don’t mind the nickname. When he looks at you, his eyes go wide for a moment and he blushes, but you don’t know why.

“Good morning,” you smile at him in a playfully mocking manner. He shuffles into the kitchen, still staring at you, and sits down at the kitchen table, watching you briefly before taking your sweater off of his shoulder and holding it up and asking, “Why do I have this?”

“You fell asleep on me,” you tell him. You swear he hasn’t fucking blinked since he entered the kitchen; he just keeps staring at you.

“I already know that,” he replies, rolling his eyes.

“Yes I had already figured that out,” you roll your eyes back at him. He seems to get the point and gestures for you to continue with your story. “You were having a nightmare, but I needed to get up and do something. I proceeded to finish my homework on the floor next to you but you kept making unsettling noises. Whenever you complained I would attempt to calm you down, and you seemed to be rather drawn to my sweater. Eventually I got frustrated and just gave it to you. You never made another sound.” He blushes again but doesn’t comment. You can tell he’s rather embarrassed that he acted that way.

“Do you want this back?” He asks, raising one eyebrow. He’s not looking you in the eye, he staring at your body in a rather distracting and uncomfortable manner. You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious.

“Are you sure you do not wish to keep it?” You ask him. The question shocks him so much that he finally looks you right in the eyes, seemingly horrified that you would ask him something like that, even though you both know he wants to say yes.

“W-what?” He stutters.

“You know,” you shrug. “In case you have nightmares tonight.” He glares at you playfully and you laugh, turning around and pouring noodles into the water. You set the timer and join him at the kitchen table, noticing how he continually stares at you. When you sit down you give him a curious look. “Why do you keep staring at me?”

“Oh…” he looks embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”

“Obviously it is not ‘ _nothing_ ’.”

“It’s just…” he trails off and looks away shyly. “I’ve n-never actually seen you w-without your s-sweater on.”

“That’s it?” You ask disbelievingly.

“No!” He turns dark red. “Just – you’re… you’re really tiny.” It’s slightly offensive and you can tell there’s something else he wants to add, but you’re not going to say anything until he’s said everything he needs to. “And you’re, like – ” he mumbles something and you narrow your eyes at him.

“I couldn’t hear you,” you inform him. He mumbles it again, only slightly louder, and it really annoys you. You sigh, “Cronus, you are acting like a child. Yes I understand that some things are more difficult to say than others, but at least—”

“ _Really_ _attractive_ , _okay_?!” He blurts out suddenly. “You’re really attractive.”

“Oh,” you say quietly, going red and feeling like a complete jackass. Way to go, Kankri. Great fucking job, dude. A+ work, my friend. He doesn’t say anything, he just puts your sweater down on the table and stands up, obviously feeling like he should just leave. You reach out and grab his hand with both of yours. “Please don’t go? I’m sorry…”

Cronus looks down at you with pain and regret on his face. He squats down in front of you and reaches out to cup your face with his free hand, “Whatever you want, Kankri.” Before you were hesitant, but you’re positive now. You want him. You’ve never grown so close to someone so fast; you’ve never felt safe with someone the way you feel around him. You’re perfectly aware of how irrational this all is, but you really can’t find it within yourself to care. Not yet, anyway. You think it might also have something to do with the fact that you haven’t really slept since early yesterday and you’re what seems to be the equivalent of being in heat.

Upstairs, you hear Karkat once again whine your name. You’re frustrated with him and you want to just leave him to suffer, but he’s your brother and he already hates you enough. No need to add to the fire. You look at Cronus, “I have to—”

“No you don’t,” Cronus cuts you off. “I’ll check on him.” Then he stands up, kisses your forehead, and leaves the kitchen… but not before he grabs your sweater again and hangs it around his neck—it makes you feel really special. As he rounds the corner, you shamefully realize that you had been blatantly staring at his ass. Then again, it’s a really nice ass, so you can’t really be in the wrong here. And just now you decided that your thoughts are your own; nobody else has to know what they are. You can think whatever the fuck you want!

You can think about his fine ass. You can think about kissing him. You can think about the fact that you are _really_ hormonal right now and you kinda just want him to fuck you. Okay wait. That’s as far as it gets; do **_NOT_** think about that. If you think about that, you will get a boner or have a heart attack (or culture shock or some shit like that) and then things will get really awkward and you might do something you know you’ll regret. Like tell Cronus to leave or accidentally give him a hand job… “accidentally”. Heh. Right.

You shake your head and stand up to walk over to the stove. The timer beeps and you shut off the heat, pulling the strainer out of the cabinet and setting it in the sink. You carefully pour the noodles in, letting all the water run down the drain, and shake the bowl a few times before pouring the noodles back into the pot and putting the pot back on the stove. You pulled a bowl from the cupboard and a plastic container of diced tomatoes out of the refrigerator.

“Well,” you hear a sigh from behind and turn to see Cronus walking in. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the counter next to you. “He said he didn’t want to stay in bed anymore, and when he tried to stand up… he fell over and complained that ‘ _everything_ _hurt’_.” Cronus uses air quotes to emphasize how obnoxious your younger brother is.

“So what did you do?” You ask curiously.

“I put him back in his bed and gave him pain medication.”

“That’s it? He didn’t say anything else?” It seems rather suspicious to you. Karkat never just lets anyone off that easily, not even people he likes. Especially someone he just met. However, when you ask the question, Cronus turns dark red and shakes his head furiously, looking away from you and at anything else he could get his attention on. “What did he say?”

“Nothing,” Cronus says quietly

“I don’t believe you,” you start slowly. “However, I have learned that some things should not be forced out of people without proper cause. I have none. Currently…” he looks at you, terrified. _Good_ , you think. _You_ should _be scared_. You could be just as stubborn, conniving, and cynical as Karkat when you felt like it—never really a pretty sight for anyone who experienced your wrath.

“I really appreciate that, Kan.” He reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you closer to him; you follow without hesitation and rest your forehead against his chest, closing your eyes and squeezing his hand affectionately. You’re about to reply when your phone vibrates in your pocket. Curiously, you lean back and pull it out before selecting the _read message now_ option.

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Dad  
      _Car won’t start; too cold.  
_       _The roads are horrible. . . I  
_ _have decided to stay at work  
_ _tonight. I’ll be home tomorrow  
_ _evening. Take care of Karkat  
_ _and be safe. Stay inside._

* * *

To: Dad  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _That’s h9rrib6le. I am truly  
_ _s9rry. I have a questi9n. . .  
_ _I invited a friend 9ver t9 keep  
_ _me c9mpany. What a69ut him?_

* * *

 

To: Kankri Vantas  
From: Dad  
      _I don’t think it’s safe for  
_ _anyone to be out right now.  
_ _Let him stay over; he can  
_ _sleep in your room. I don’t  
_ _want guests sleeping on a  
_ _springy old couch or in a  
_ _freezing living room._

* * *

To: Dad  
From: Kankri Vantas  
 _I shall d9 that.  
_ _Stay warm._

 

You close your phone, take a few steps backwards, and glance at Cronus uncomfortably before asking, “How do you feel about sleepovers?”

 

**== > Stop Being Kankri Vantas**

**== > Cronus: Surprise!**


	11. ==> Cronus: Surprise!

“How do you feel about sleepovers?” Um… what? How do you feel about sleepovers? How _do_ you feel about sleepovers? Oh Gog is Kankri asking you to sleep over?! Wait, why would he do that? He’s terrified of… people. And proximity to people. And everything about other people. At least that’s what you’ve gathered from the few hours you’ve spent with him. Except for when he’s distracted and starts to stroke your hair and puts you to sleep. Kankri is so soft and warm, and he smelled like soap and laundry detergent and sunshine. He lectures people and gets angry at the smallest things… you can’t say for sure, but Gog you love this kid.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You askin’ me to sleep over, Kanny?”

“Well,” he starts grimace. “I normally wouldn’t ask someone I just met to stay over at my house, but there are always circumstances in which certain actions must be taken.” It’s like he’s speaking a foreign language. Can’t he just say it like everyone else? What’s with all the technical talk dude? Well, you guess that’s part of why you think he’s really adorable.

“What are these circumstances you speak of?” You push yourself off the edge of the counter and circle him, subtly checking out that cute-as-fuck ass of his. Kankri squirms uncomfortably under your gaze and crosses his arms over his chest in a huffy manner before telling you,  “My dad says it’s too cold for him to start his car, and that the roads are too dangerous for anyone to be driving on them. I told him you were over and he told me that you should stay because it’s not safe outside.” You desperately want to take him up on his offer, but you can literally see his skin crawl; you can see how uncomfortable he is with the situation. He’s trying to be a nice guy, but in the end, Kankri Vantas is still used to being alone, and both of you know he likes it that way.

“Eh,” you shrug and smile at him. “Ain’t nothing I can’t handle.” He worries at his bottom lip and looks away from you. You find your eyes drawn to the action and to you, it’s so fucking hot. _He’s_ so fucking hot. And apparently, outside it’s so fucking cold. Too fucking cold. Damn, you really wanna stay with him, and you definitely don’t want to leave right now, but you know he kind of wants you to, and if you don’t leave now, it may get too cold for you to even open the front door. “I’ll just drive real careful, yeah?”

“Are you sure, Cronus?” The confliction in his eyes is apparent, and you just nod. You pull him in for one more hug and a kiss on the head before pulling away and heading towards the living room to grab your coat. He follows after you and watches as you move to the door and slip your shoes on. You hold up his sweater and look at him happily.

“I couldn’t tell if you were joking,” you start. “But can I keep this for a while? It _does_ smell nice and I’ll probably sleep better and—”

“Cronus, it’s fine.” He shakes his head at you but he’s smiling so you don’t take it negatively. You wrap it around your neck and cover up your head to brace for the cold. Before you open the door and dart outside, you ready your car keys in your hand and turn to smirk at him, “Y’know, this sweater is a really good reason to see you again.”

Before he can protest, you wrench open the door and you feel like you’ve been punched in the face with a hammer made of dry ice. On the other hand, you can’t really beg to stay and you can’t keep the door open any longer because it’s probably freezing Kankri to death. You slam the door to keep it tightly secured and run to where you car is parked on the street. Even the ten seconds it takes to get to your car, you can feel the cold biting at every inch of your exposed skin and wriggling to make its way under your clothes. You hop inside the car and turn it on, letting it run for about twenty seconds before putting it into drive and pulling into the street. By this time, you’re starting to lose a little bit of feeling in your pinky fingers and you swear under your breath, blasting the heat as high as you can. About five minutes later, your car starts to make funny sounds and you have to pull over to the side of the road. The lights on the dashboard and the stereo start to flicker and all you can think is ‘ _oh shit…_ ’ because this is exactly what you _didn’t_ want to happen.

Your car shuts down and you’re left there, completely hopeless. If you just stay, you’ll die. You know you will; it’s too fucking cold outside for you not too. You whip out your phone and look at the time. It’s 6:15 PM and your phone is dying.  Okay now you’re really fucked. It’s about to shut down any goddamned second and—oh. There it goes. Dead. Fuck. Now what do you do?

The air in the car had started to heat up, but now it’s starting to freeze again, and you figure you had fifteen minutes before you were an ice cube, possibly a bit less. Okay that’s it. There’s only one thing you can do, and in a situation like this, you don’t think anyone should mind.

You reach into your backseat and grab everything you can manage (your now-frozen water bottle, your phone charger, laptop, etc.) before taking a deep breath and opening the door. _Jegus fucking Christ is it cold outside or what?!?!?_ Instead of sitting there and complaining about it, you got out of your car, shut/locked the doors, and started to run as fast as you could to Kankri’s house. Right now he was your only option.

As you run, you feel the cold seeping into your bones, and then right into your very core. You wonder if this is what frostbite feels like… and as you get to Kankri’s block—a few minutes later—you stop feeling cold and you feel a warm numbing sensation start at your fingers and spread through you.

Fuck.

You _knew_ this was what frostbite felt like; you had heard about people who had gotten snowed into their cars, and they had mentioned that just before frostbite got to their toes or fingers, it started to stop feeling cold and start feeling warm. Shit this was a fucking bad sign, and you didn’t know if you could make it the rest of the way to Kankri’s house without your lungs freezing from all the cold air you were breathing in.

Salvation was right before your eyes when you were only two houses away from his. Without even thinking, you sprint across their lawns and practically launch yourself at Kankri’s front door, which really fucking _hurts damnit!_ You think you may have dislocated your shoulder but at least you didn’t drop any of your stuff or break any of your limbs or kill any of your extremities… well, that last one remained to be seen.

With any power you can muster up, you shift all of your possessions into one arm and start to bang on his door, loudly screaming, “ _Kanny let me in! Please, please,_ please _let me in!_ ”

 

**== > Avoid Subzero Temperatures**

**== > Kankri: Surprise!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about how short the chapters have been.


	12. ==> Kankri: Surprise!

You had just finished eating, had put on a new sweater, and were in the middle of checking on Karkat when you hear something or someone pounding on your front door. After telling Karkat to stay put, you frightfully made your way down the stairs. You were scared to open the door until you heard a voice on the other side that was practically sobbing, “ _Kankri! Are you there? Please say you are! Let me in!_ ” Then you were scared for a whole other reason. Without a second thought, you wrench the door open only to reveal…

“Cronus!” You exclaim, your eyes practically bulging out of your head. He stumbles into the room and collapses on the floor, stuff flying everywhere. You slam the door behind him and kneel down beside him. He’s sprawled out on his stomach and you use all your strength to roll him over because goddamn he is fucking _heavy_ , and he feels like a fucking ice cube! He’s panting and shivering and sweating and he looks like death.

“I-it’s r-really fu-fucking c-c-cold outside,” he laughs breathily and your heart kind of breaks because he’s trying to be positive for your sake even when he’s practically dying.

“Jegus Christ, I don’t know what the fuck to do.” You say frantically, waving your hands in the air in a strange attempt to calm yourself down. Cronus’ hand waves you off in a very don’t-worry-about-it kind of way. You can’t help but slap his hand away angrily because damnit you are going to do something! You’re the one that made him leave in the first place, and now he might have frostbite. You glance down at his hands and see that they’re actually a little blue. “Oh my Gog…” you grab his hands and you’re really shocked at how extremely cold they are.

“Tryna hold my hand, chief?” He smiles at you deliriously and laughs again.

“Oh shut up,” you say, rolling your eyes when he giggles. “Can you get up?”

“Yeah, I think so…” he sits up and braces himself against you as he stands up; he stumbles slightly but manages to stay on his feet.

“C’mere,” you take his hand and slowly pull him up the stairs and down the hallway. You pass Karkat’s room and enter your room. You hear Cronus make a noise of awe and try to ignore him as you lead him to the bed. You tell him to sit and he does, still shivering and teeth shattering. Then you move around the room, and he watches you carefully, making you feel extremely uncomfortable. You go back to the bed and unwind your sweater from his head and chuck it in the corner. You put your hands on either side of his face to check his temperature, your thumbs brushing across his cheeks; he’s still freezing cold. Cronus stares at you, without blinking, the entire freaking time and it makes you nervous. _Very_ nervous.

“Please stop staring at me like that,” you murmur, sliding your hands down his neck and gripping his jacket to pull it off his shoulders. You take it and hang it over your desk chair, then you take a fluffy blanket that you had pulled out of the closet a few minutes ago and wrap it around him. “I’m going to get your stuff from downstairs.” Then you give him a pair of much-too-big-for-you-so-you-never-wear-them sweatpants. “You can wear this if you wish. Please just… stay there, okay?” Without waiting for a reply, you head downstairs and gather everything that he had spilled everywhere and huff your way back upstairs, stopping briefly to speak with your brother who is in the middle of watching _Say Yes to the Dress_ on Netflix. (He says that he watches it because, and you quote, “those motherfucking bridezilla bitches are crazy as fuck and I love to laugh at their shitty first-world problems”.)

He pauses the TV and looks at you, “What the fuck is up with your boyfriend, Kankass?”

“Karkat,” you say sternly. “He is not my boyfriend, and this is a serious situation. Please treat it as such.” You again don’t wait for a reply before trekking the last few steps to your bedroom door and pushing it open. Cronus was is sitting on the bed with his knees pulled up to his chest. He was wearing the sweatpants and had placed his shoes beside the desk chair. He sat there, hugging his knees and he looked miserable. It pulled at your heart strings. You put all of his stuff down on your desk and turn to face him, thumbs twiddling, suddenly feeling much more nervous than you should have been. Your voice is quiet when you finally speak “What exactly happened?”

 “Car broke down ‘bout half a mile away,” he murmurs, still shivering slightly. “Couldn’t stay there ‘nless I wanted to be a popsicle. I hadda run all the way here.” He sighs and casts his glance away. “Couldda stayed here in the first place, but I hadda go.”

“Why?” You ask him with a puzzled expression. And what he said next was, in fact, the exact reason that you felt so goddamned safe and comfortable around him.

“Cause you wanted me to,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone, shrugging slightly. Running a hand through your hair, you sigh sadly. You didn’t even understand until now that you are the reason that this beautiful, caring, amazing boy almost died tonight. You didn’t even have to say it, but he just somehow fucking _knew_ that you weren’t comfortable with him staying overnight, and despite how much you knew he wanted to stay (and how practical it was for him to stay) he left anyways. That makes you, Kankri Vantas, an asshole, and it makes him, Cronus Ampora, your salvation.

“Cronus, I am so sorry,” you start, picking at a loose thread on your sweater. “If I hadn’t asked you to leave then—”

“You probably wouldda had a panic attack,” Cronus cuts you off with a sad smile. Somehow he knows just how sensitive you are and it’s so sweet. Everything inside of you, except for your consciousness, realized that you could have lost, or possibly seriously damaged, something that you deeply care for and would never want to let go of. You look down at your feet and try to not let this cause you to have an actual panic attack. “Kankri,” he murmurs softly. “You shouldn’t blame yourself, chief. I mean, _I_ don’t blame you, and I’m the one that almost froze.”

“Gee,” you scoff weakly, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

“Kan, come here.” Cronus’ hand is outstretched towards you and slowly, but surely, you walk towards him. When you take his hand, he stands up and has you sit on the bed. He removes the blanket from his shoulders and drapes it over you. You’re about to protest, but he shakes his head before you can get a single word out. Then he kneels down in front of you, takes both of your hands in his, and takes a deep breath.

“I got no idea why I’m about to say annya this,” he starts. “Maybe it’s ‘cause I wanted to tell you when I first met you, or maybe it’s ‘cause I couldda died tonight and I couldn’t imagine not tellin’ ya what I think you outta hear. I know this might be a lot for you, and I don’t expect ya to feel the same way, but I just… I gotta tell ya, chief. I gotta.

“Y’know when I first saw you three years ago… I never hadda reason to talk to you. I just kinda watched ya, and that sounds a lot creepier than in my head. Anyway, I know I just met you literally yesterday, but before then, I’d had more time than I needed to look at you and realize that you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen in my entire life. I kinda – well, I kinda fell in love with you, Kan.

“And then yesterday I actually _talked to you_ , and I got to know a little ‘bout you and I honestly just said to myself ‘ _Cronus Ampora, you gotta keep this kid. He’s just as perfect as you’da thought_ ’, and I’m not meanin’ it like you’re actually perfect, I’m just meanin’ that you’re... wow. You’re this short little guy who likes to wear sweaters that are way too big for him. You’re extremely strict on grammar, and you’re incredibly unyielding. You’re also caring, you love Princess Diaries, you are so incredibly attractive and insanely adorable and goddamned gorgeous that I can’t even stand it, and you are so peaceful that you put me to _sleep_.

“I guess I’m just trynna say that ya may not be perfect to the world, and ya may not be perfect to yourself, but you’re perfect _for_ _me_. And that’s why I stare at ya all the fucking time. I can’t even believe you’re real. It’s like you’re nothing more than a dream that I’m afraid to wake up from. I just don’t want you to vanish in the blink of an eye. I can act cool and I can act like I don’t really get bothered by nothing, but you do stuff to me, Kan. I don’t think straight when I’m around you. I don’t breathe right. My chest gets tight and my stomach feels all funny. Yeah I don’t know ya perfectly, but right now I think it’s safe for me to say that I never wanna lose ya, Kankri. Never.”

By the time he’s finished speaking, you don’t think you’re breathing anymore. You don’t think that your heart is beating anymore, and you think that you _know_ that your mind isn’t working correctly anymore. At this point, you’re so deprived of sleep, so deprived of love, and so deprived of attention, that you don’t even have enough energy to stay prudish and uptight about people being around you anymore. What Cronus had just told you isn’t something that people can just make up on the spot unless it’s really in their hearts. He actually meant all of those things. He really… wow.

Someone actually loves you.

It isn’t until Cronus is lightly shaking your arm and asking if you’re okay that you realize that you’ve been spacing out completely. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, and then you look down at him; his (beautiful, dark blue) eyes are concerned and you notice that a little bit of colour is starting to return to his (incredibly fair and smooth) cheeks. Then you look down at where your fingers are entwined and back up at his face.

“Hey, you okay, chief?”

“Cronus,” your voice is very quiet, and you feel very nervous. “If I ask you to do something for me, will you please do it without any questions?” He nods and squeezes your hands comfortingly.

“I promise.” There isn’t any hesitation in his voice, and you pray to every higher power out there that he’ll be on board with this because your heart is clenching and you desperately want this more than you could have imagined. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before asking him.

“Will you…kiss me?”

 

**== > …Wait, What?!**

**== > Be An Omnipotent Little Shit Again**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post the next chapter tomorrow and then you guys might have to wait a little bit, but it's totally worth it! Chapter 14 is flooded with fluff and Gamkar! :D


	13. ==> Be An Omnipotent Little Shit Again

_Will you kiss me?_ The question resonates through Cronus’ head like a mantra. He desperately wants to say yes, but another part of him thinks they’re moving a little too fast for sane-Kankri’s liking. Then again, Cronus _did_ promise do whatever Kankri requested, no questions asked. So that’s exactly what he’s going to do: he’s going to kiss that angelic little cutie sitting in front of him, and he’s not going to feel anything but happy about it.

There is no reply other than Cronus leaning forward and ever so gently pressing his lips against Kankri’s. It’s soft and sweet and it makes them both feel at ease; a few seconds in, Kankri melts into Cronus and his eyelids flutter shut. Kankri can tell that Cronus is still a little cold, but the cold has nothing to do with the shudder that runs through him as their lips press a little bit harder against each other. He was outside way too long and Kankri thinks he might be coming down with something. It’s easy to tell that Cronus is sick because he’s warm; not warm as in oh-I-just-blushed-and-I’m-nervous! No, this is warm as in Jegus-fucking-Christ-I’m-pretty-sure-that-I-have-a-fever.

Kankri pulls back just enough to whisper, “Th-thank you…” and gives Cronus one more kiss before sitting up. Cronus tries to follow his lips, but Kankri is out of his reach and laughs a little, running a hand through Cronus’ hair and smiling at him fondly. He looks at Kankri and his heart leaps into his throat at the mere sight of this beautiful, tiny boy. “How’re you feeling?” Kankri asks, stroking Cronus’ face softly.

“Tired,” he admits. “A little hungry. Still kinda cold.”

“Well then it’s settled,” Kankri says sternly. He flushes a little before saying, “Without taking this too lewdly, please get into my bed.” Cronus nearly choked, but he didn’t say anything in favor of standing up, pulling back the blanket, and doing as Kankri asked him. Kankri had moved aside and waited for Cronus to get in his bed before giving him his blanket back and heading towards the door. Right before leaving, he turned and said, “You said you were hungry. What do you want to eat?”

“Oh,” Cronus sighed. “No. Chief, you don’t gotta make anything for me. I’ll be fine.”

“Cronus,” Kankri narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the door. “Have you eaten anything today? I mean, aside from breakfast this morning.”

Cronus looks at Kankri guiltily. “I… I didn’t exactly. Eat. Breakfast… This morning. Heh.”

“Oh my Gog,” Kankri rolls his eyes and as he walks down the hall, he calls, “Yeah, I’m making you waffles. And a sandwich.” Then Cronus sees Kankri stop and glance into another room. “Karkat do you want anything?”

“Gamzee!” Comes the bitter reply. “…and a Mountain Dew.”

“Not on your life, dear brother.” Kankri laughs, and it seems so out of character for him that Cronus starts to feel a little uncomfortable—he doesn’t want someone who is sleep-deprived and delirious to be working a toaster and using sharp knives. “You’ve been eating nothing but chocolate ice cream all day. No more sugar.” When Karkat flipped Kankri off, Kankri just frowned and headed downstairs.

Cronus settled back against Kankri’s pillows and smiled to himself; he never imagined that he’d be in someone’s bed without the sole intention of sleeping with them. Like, sleeping _with_ them as opposed to sleeping _next_ to them, which is what Cronus desperately hoped had happened. He wrapped the blanket around his torso/head, pulled the covers up to his chin, and buried his face in a pillow. It smelled absolutely delightful. Just like Kankri, and that made something deep inside of Cronus twist and stir. It made his stomach clench and his heart swell. It was one of the most important moments in his life thus far, and he would never take it for granted. Sure, he could have died tonight, but he… he survived. He was saved and in more way than just one.

Kankri came back upstairs, stopped at Karkat’s room to say goodnight, and then came in, closing the door behind him. He walked over and shoved the waffles before setting the sandwich on the desk and moving towards the TV. Cronus happily ate his waffles and watched Kankri methodically slide a DVD case off of the shelf, open it, and take the disk out. He put it in the DVD player and moved back to the bed, picking the remote off of the bedside table. For a few seconds, Kankri stood there awkwardly and looked down at Cronus, biting his lip.

“Is it okay if I…?” He gestures to the spot on the bed next to Cronus and feels nervous about asking him to sit so close, despite how close they had gotten earlier. Well, that and the fact that they had kissed so… y’know. Stuff.

“Aye, chief,” Cronus pulls back the blanket and gestures for him to sit down. Kankri slides in beside him and pulls up the cover, careful not to knock the plate out of Cronus’ hands lest he get syrup all over his bed. After Kankri starts the movie—Now You See Me, which was evidently the first movie that Cronus and Eridan had bonded over… bit sad isn’t it?—Cronus nudges him a little in order to get his attention. Kankri gives him an a-dor-able look of confusion and Cronus mentally swoons before giving a false smirk. “Y’know, Kanny. I’m still pretty cold. Wanna help me out?”

There’s a blush, “I do suppose I could indulge you… just this once.” Kankri had no idea what the fuck he was saying; Cronus was going to get more than ‘just this once’. After all, they had fucking _kissed_! Shit like that means something to Kankri. Seriously though. He scoots closer to Cronus who sinks down and snuggles into Kankri’s side, inhaling the amazing smell of his sweater.

“You’re warm,” Cronus murmurs between bites of waffle.

“So I am affective in my attempt to help you?” Kankri asked with an amused tone. Cronus turns his head and kisses the part of Kankri that’s closest, which happens to be his jaw right above the neck of his sweater. Kankri shudders and Cronus nuzzles into his neck with a contented sigh. “What was that for?”

“Even if you were a block of dry ice,” Cronus breathes. “I would still want you sitting right beside me.” Kankri flushes although Cronus can’t see him. “Besides, you’re gorgeous, fun-sized, adorable, easy to snuggle with, and you smell really nice.” Kankri doesn’t reply, but instead kisses Cronus’ forehead as a sign of affection, inhaling the sickly sweet scent of hibiscus flower—he giggles internally at the fact that Cronus uses girly shampoo. All laughs aside, he could seriously get used to this. He’s not exactly comfortable with the idea of a relationship, but he likes the idea of having someone to cuddle with, someone to hold hands with, someone to talk to, and someone to kiss just because he can…

Yes, it’s true. Those qualities effectively describe what “dating” entails, but he just hates titles. Like, yes he could consider Cronus his boyfriend but that is because Cronus is a boy and is also his friend. That is something they’ll have to discuss when there’s more time and they’re not both exhausted.

“Kankri,” Cronus’ soft voice penetrates Kankri’s subconscious. “What are we…?” Or now. Kankri guesses they can do it now. Sooner is a bit better than later, in retrospect. So how does he go about defining the relationship.

“Cronus, I like you.” Kankri murmurs gently into Cronus’ hair. “Against my better judgment, I am entertaining the idea of a relationship with you. However, there are many expectations that I hold highly in my mind above all else.” Cronus sits up and leans over Kankri to put his plate on the bedside table, but then sits back and gazes into Kankri’s eyes.

“I’m all ears, chief.”

“Firstly, I would like you to realize that I have never been in a relationship such as this before and so I expect that you’ll be patient with me. Secondly, I hope you shouldn’t expect me to act so… _physical_ with you as much as you may want. Thirdly, there will be times when I ask you not to do something, and it may seem trivial, but I am so very easily triggered and I wish you to respect that. Lastly, there are some parts of my life that I cannot and will not willingly share, and it isn’t because I don’t trust you, it’s just because of my own personal reserve.”

Cronus is silent for a long time before saying, “That’s a lotta expectations, Kanny.” And Kankri starts to panic internally until he hears, “Compared to the distance of three years, it’s nothin’. Only thing I care ‘bout is you. Only thing I wanna do is make you happy.”

“You’re off to a good start,” Kankri smiles timidly and leans forward to carefully peck Cronus on the lips. In response, Cronus doesn’t move more than the slight movement involved in kissing back; he knows Kankri’s rule about being physical, and he’s not willing to fuck things up that badly in the beginning of the relationship. He’s decided that he’ll let precious little Kankri decide how slow or fast things will move.

“Are you sure?” Cronus asks, tilting his head to the side with suspicion in his eyes. “I don’t want you lyin’ to me, chief.”

“Yes! I’m positive,” Kankri laughs, rolling his eyes. “Now come here and cuddle with me.” As Cronus pulls Kankri against his chest, wrapping his arms around the torso of the smaller boy, he quietly whispers, “Whatever you want, Kankri.” Then Cronus places a light kiss to the shell of Kankri’s ear making him shudder. They lay in silence, watching the movie flicker across the screen, and Kankri feels his eyes start to drift shut. He glances over at Cronus and notices that he’s already asleep. Kankri smiles tiredly, turns off the TV, and rolls over to bury his face into Cronus’ chest, just trying to soak up the warmth and give a little back.

As of this moment, his life was as perfect as it was going to get.

 

**== > Things Are Perfect. So That Means It’s Really Boring.**

**== > Catch Up With Someone New**


	14. ==>Catch Up With Someone New

You feel yourself being brought to conscious… and absolutely everything hurts. The ache in your bones just radiates out from your core to your fingertips, and you can feel your pulse throughout your entire body; pounding in your head, rushing in your ears, through your stomach. It all just hurts. Like motherfucking hell does it hurt. It’s bright. Much too bright for your liking. Somewhere deep in your throat, you let out a groan of frustration and wince at how much it hurts to do something as simple as make sounds.

“Hey are you actually awake?” The voice is soft—you just know it is—but it echoes in your ears like a rock concert on crack. You haven’t even listened to ICP this loudly. And you definitely listen to ICP as loud as fuck.

“Wha—” your voice cracks and you break into a coughing fit and your head explodes. Not literally, because that would be bad and you wouldn’t be alive anymore, but it definitely feels like some kind of bombs are going off in your head. You put your hands over your eyes and shake your head to clear your thoughts. Then something comes to mind.

“Where am I?” You look around frantically. “What happened? Where’s Karkat?”

“Whoa,” out of the corner of your eye, someone comes into view. “Calm down there.” A tall boy (but shorter than you, obviously) with long blond hair that was pulled into a low pony tail, and bright, interested eyes is looking down at you. He’s slightly familiar, but you can’t remember where you last saw him. He frowns at you, “Are you okay?”

“Where am I?” You repeat, looking at him stupidly.

“You’re at the hospital,” he tells you as he takes the seat next to your bed. His closeness starts to give you a little anxiety, and you try to focus on breathing. Nothing else. Just… breathing.

“The… hospital?” You asked in a confused manner. “What happened to me?”

“Well, I was in the woods for, er… a Biology project and I found you lying on the ground. It was bad. There was blood everywhere! I thought you were dead. You were definitely alive, but just barely. I called the police.” Oh yeah. Some of it was starting to come back to you; you were running down the street. Why were you running down the street?

A pang of regret and undeniable anger shoots through your body, and you can just sense that something is very, _very_ wrong. Does it have something to do with someone you know? Yes, it definitely has something to do with someone you know. Who? You have no idea, but you have a sinking feeling that it _may_ be Karkat. You never feel passionate over anything except Karkat.

“Well thanks,” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest and slinking away from him. There is just something about this guy that you really don’t like. It’s weird, and you don’t understand it, but you know when to trust your gut. This is one of those times.

“No problem.” He smiles and nods. “I’ll just go get the doctor.” Then he gets up and leaves the room leaving you all alone with your thoughts. Seriously, what the actual fuck happened? Thinking about it hurts your brain, but the only thing you really care about is where your best friend is, why he isn’t with you, and if he’s okay. You look to the table next to you and see your cell phone laying there, the notification light flashing brightly.

You slowly lean over and grab it before setting back down in your pillow. You unlock the phone and hit your text messages. You see that you have a new message from Karkat and your heart jumps into your throat. You eagerly tap it and read slowly, just to make sure you’re getting everything right.

 

* * *

 

To: terminallyCapricious  
From: Karkat Vantas  
 _Gamzee. This is Kankri. I kn9w y9u and Karkat  
_ _had a fight, 6ut when Karkat ran after y9u,  
_ _s9mething 6ad happened t9 him. He’s at  
_ _Alternia H9spital.  
_ _I figured he’d want y9u t9 kn9w._

* * *

Jegus. Fucking. Christ.

What the hell was happening, and why was your best friend in the hospital? Not only that, but the _same_ hospital you were in! You felt like jumping up and running to Karkat as quickly as possible, but you knew you were less than able to stand, let alone run somewhere. Then again, the message was from two days ago, so maybe he’s not in the hospital anymore? You need to be sure, so you reach over to the telephone index and dial the front office. A girl answers, “Alternia Hospital, this is Roxy speaking. How may I assist you?”

“Uh, hi Roxy,” your voice is rough and you feel like crying, but you just gotta man the fuck up and put your big-boy pants on for Karkat’s sake. “I was wondering if you could tell me if Karkat Vantas is still a patient here?”

“Yes hold on a second,” Roxy goes quiet and you can hear the sound of someone typing and clicking on a computer. A few seconds later, she returns. “No, I’m sorry, sir. It looks like Karkat Vantas was released quite early yesterday morning.”

“Okay thank you so much,” you don’t wait for a response, and instead you hang up and dial someone you wanted to talk to very much at this moment. Ring. Ring. Ring.

“Hello?” The surprised voice asks.

“Kankri!” You exclaim, feeling some relief wash over you.

“Gamzee? Where are you? Are you okay? Karkat has been worried sick about you. So worried that he’s worked himself into an irretrievable depression.” His words sting and make you take a shuddering breath; you can feel your eyes start to burn with the inevitability of tears, but you couldn’t give less of a shit if you tried.

“I-I’m so sorry Kankri,” your voice wavers. “I just woke up and read your message. I’m in the hospital. Been here for two days. I don’t remember anything.” And so Kankri Vantas, after apologizing for making you cry, explains exactly what was going on and what you had done to destroy your best friend. He explained how Karkat had run after him but fell and hurt himself so badly that his wrist and forearm were broken. He explained how Karkat staggered home in the freezing cold. He explained how Karkat fell into the middle of the street and was found there, barely breathing, but his extremely concerned older brother.

“Jegus Christ, Kankri,” you sigh, rubbing your hand over your face. “Okay listen. Please don’t tell him that I called you. If he’s gonna hear anything from anyone, I want it to be from me. I owe him that much.” Kankri agrees to keep your call a secret and then hangs up just in time for the doctor to walk into the room and smile at you. You find yourself smiling back and realizing that it’s because you feel a thousand times more comfortable with this doctor than with that other creepy dude who seems oddly familiar.

“Hello,” you say, pulling your covers up to your chin.

“Hello. I am Doctor Noir,” he replies, pulling out a pen and clicking the end of it. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess…”

“Good,” he scribbles down something and then moves around the room to check all of the machines and then sits down in the chair beside you. “Now I’m going to ask you some questions and just answer them to the best of your abilities, okay?” You nod silently and he smiles again. “What is your first and last name?”

Your voice is quiet when you answer, “Gamzee Makara.”

“Good. Your date of birth?”

“February 2nd, 1997.”

“Good, okay,” you watch as he scans his papers, searching for a question. “Can you explain to me what happened?”

“Um,” you feel a sense of dread loom over you and shift uncomfortably in your bed, wincing as the pillow rubs against your sensitive back. “I don’t really remember. I was running and then I fell? I guess? I don’t know. Sorry.”

“No, that’s perfectly okay!” He reassures you with a wide grin; damn this dude is just the best doctor that you’ve ever had to deal with ever. Most doctors suck ass. No they seriously do. “Okay Gamzee, we were able to pull your identity from the wallet we found in your pocket, but we could not find any data about your emergency contacts in our system.”

“Oh well…” you don’t really feel like getting into it about your parents, but you figure that you have no idea what the fuck else you should say. “My parents are gone for a while on business, but you can call my brother, I guess.” Doctor Noir tells you that he would love your brother’s number and you give it to him as quickly as possible because you figure that the sooner you can get out of this hospital and back to Karkat, the better. Dr. Noir leaves to make the call, but when he goes, that creepy-as-shit kid comes back in.

“Who are you?” You ask before he has the opportunity to say anything.

His face falters slightly, “I’m Equius Zahhak.” Ah. Equius Zahhak. It sounded familiar, and gave you a bad feeling in your gut. As he stands there and smiles at you, you feel your stomach turn and bile rise up in your throat. Suddenly you remember where you know this guy from…

A couple of years ago, you were walking down the hallway with Karkat and this random kid, that you know were in a couple of your classes, walks up to you both. What was his name again? Oh yeah! Equius Zahhak or something like that. You stop and get extremely nervous, which Karkat can sense and you hear a small growl emit from deep in his throat. You squeeze his shoulder comfortingly and feel him relax slightly, but the arm that’s wrapped around your waist protectively doesn’t move.

“Hey Gamzee,” Equius says brightly. Then he turns to Karkat and gets an unpleasant look on his face, “Karkat…” Then he turns back to you and smiles. “So I was wondering if you were busy this weekend or something.” You don’t know what to say. Nobody aside from Karkat ever wanted to hang out with you and suddenly this guy wanted to? What the hell?

“Uh…” you look from Equius back to Karkat and a pang of agony rips through you when you see the look on your best friend’s face. Karkat honestly looked like you had just murdered a puppy; the fear of Gog had been struck into his very core. Did he think that he was going to lose you to this kid? The notion seemed ridiculous, but the look on his face was absolutely terrifying. “Y-yeah, Equius,” you say finally.

“Oh…” Equius’ smile fell but Karkat looked a little more relieved.

“I’m sorry,” you say unconvincingly. “I’m hanging out with Karkat this weekend.” And that wasn’t even a lie. You really were hanging out with Karkat this weekend, just like you were hanging out with Karkat every day of your life, basically. And you didn’t even mind.

Karkat was your savior, so you owed him at least that much.

“That’s fine,” Equius says equally as unconvincing. “See ya later.” As he leaves, he shoots Karkat a nasty look which infuriates you but you don’t do anything. From that day forward, every time you would see Equius in the hallway, he would smile at you or come up to you or ask you what you were doing that night. You always gave him the same schpeil about having to do something (like homework) or you told him the truth—you were going to hang out with Karkat. But you didn’t want to say that too often because Equius gave you the creepy ‘I-Will-Murder-Your-Best-Friend-So-That-You-Will-Love-Me’ vibe.

So that brings you to today. Right now you were alone in a room with a kid who was creepily obsessed with you, and there was no way out. You _could_ buzz in the nurse and ask her to get security to remove him, but you were afraid that Equius might get violent or something and that kid is _huge_.

“Right,” you tell him. “Equius…” Just then, Doctor Noir comes in and you thank your lucky stars. He asks Equius to leave, which earns him a nasty look which he chooses to ignore.

“So I gave your brother a call.” You nod. “He told me that he was at college for a while, and I asked him if he had another person I could contact. Sadly, there was nobody else to call, but he also told me that upon your own request and judgment, you could be released whenever you wanted.”

“Really?” You ask in an excited manner.

“Yes,” he confirms. “However, I do not think that your brother is legally allowed to hand over that responsibility to you since he isn’t your legal guardian… Unless he is?”

“Oh he totally is! He is, I promise!” You reassure him quickly. “When can I leave?” Noir told you that when you were thoroughly checked over, you were allowed to sign yourself out and leave, granted that you weren’t going home and were picked up by either a family member, or close friend in this case, of at least 18 years or older. Before Doctor Noir, you discretely asked him if it was possible to keep everyone except medical personnel out of your room. He promised that he would do that, and you relaxed into your bed, desperately waiting to get out.

It only took three more hours, but the next thing you knew, you were shuffling out of the hospital accompanied by Kankri Vantas. Kankri wasn’t yet 18, but as luck would have it, Kankri was currently smitten with one Cronus Ampora who was _definitely_ 18 years old. Soon you were sitting in the backseat, sore beyond belief, but happily carrying a bottle of prescription pain killers… well _you_ weren’t holding them. Cronus was in the passenger’s seat holding them for you. But either way, you were one lucky somebitch who was soon going to be begging, apologizing, and pleading with the most unreasonable human being on Earth. And you were going to tell him that you loved him.

“Okay Gamzee,” Kankri’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts. The car is in park, still running, in the driveway of the Vantas house. Cronus is looking at your curiously and Kankri’s face is earnest, but with sympathy. “We’re going to go take care of Cronus’ car so we’ll be gone for a little. Be careful with him. Explain everything. If he gets mad… I don’t know how to deal with that.”

“I do…” you grimace. Then you grit your teeth and open the door. You pluck the bag of pills out of Cronus’ hands and slide out of the car. Very slowly, _very slowly_ , you walk up to the door and open it. Just pushing it open hurts you beyond belief, but you’re going to deal with it. Closing the door hurts less, and you toe off your shoes on the rug. Then you stare at the stairs, dreading having to climb them.

What seems like a thousand years later, you reach the landing and stop for a while to catch your breath. You drag your feet to Karkat’s room and stop in the doorway. You see your best friend facing the TV, so he can’t see you, and you take a few steps before clearing your throat. He turns to look at you and you first notice how empty he looks with dark circles under his eyes.

“Hey best friend,” you say quietly, giving him a small smile. Slowly, Karkat stands up and walks towards you, stopping a few feet away. He looks up at you and blinks once, and you start to get nervous; you’ve seen this before. This is the way Karkat gets before he blows up at someone for doing something monumentally hurtful to him. You have monumentally hurt your best friend. You don’t deserve to call him your friend at all…

 

**== > Well… You’re Fucked, Jackass!**

**== > What Does Karkat Have To Say?**


	15. ==>What Does Karkat Have To Say?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *WARNING* SO MUCH FLUFF THAT YOU'LL PUKE!

“Hey best friend?” You start in confusion. “ _Hey best friend_?!” Even to you, your voice sounds strange; animalistic and full of rage. It’s like there’s another being inside of you about to come out and destroy something. You’re shaking with anger, and you can tell that Gamzee wants to run away again, but he won’t because he’s smarter than that. “ _You run away from me and fall off the map for almost **two fucking days** and all you can say is ‘Hey best friend’?!_ ” You’re screaming and glaring up at Gamzee, and even the dude is almost a foot taller than you, you can see that he’s feeling so small right now.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as his deep, almost-purple eyes cast their gaze downward.

“You’d better be fucking sorry!” You can hear your voice waver and notice that Gamzee cringes. You’re about to cry. Great… that’s just fucking great. Absolutely perfect. “I mean, what the actual fuck were you thinking when you ran away?”

“I wasn’t really thinking,” he tells you. His shoulders slump and you feel most of your anger drain out of you. Your wrist is killing you from being so tense, and you reach out to take Gamzee’s hand. He lets you pull him towards the bed and he sits down in a slump. You sit beside him, still holding his huge hand between yours. “Karkat… I physically injured you. Did you really think that I’d be up and cool with that shit, brother? I had to get away. What if I up and hurt you again?”

“Don’t you see, Gamzee?” Now there are tears streaming down your face, and you want to stab yourself over and over again until you can’t ever cry again. Until you’re dead. “You _did_ up and hurt me! You left me all alone! What if something had happened to you? Do you know what that would do to me?” He can’t look at you, and you figure that now is the time. You never thought that it would come to you, but now is the motherfucking time to tell Gamzee how you feel. The mere thought that you almost lost him and he had no idea how you felt makes you want to throw up. You don’t even want to think about it.

“Karkat,” Gamzee’s face is tortured and it makes you want to die. Well, more than you already do, but still! “I need to tell you something…” Fuck. What if he’s leaving you for sure? What if he’s had enough of you? What if he thinks that you don’t want to see him again? Your mind is so full of thoughts that you almost don’t hear when he tells you, “I – I’m all up and in love with you. I can’t imagine my life without you, and I when I learned that I hurt you? Even if it was unconsciously, you don’t know how that makes _me_ feel.”

Quietly you say, “You’re – you’re _in love_ with me?”

“I know that it’s not really what you want but…” he looks at you and wraps his other hand around yours, squeezing them lightly. “Karbro, I love you so fucking much that it hurts me. It’s a miracle that I don’t explode every time I’m anywhere near you.” Shocked beyond belief, you shift towards him, removing your hands from his and carefully wrapping them around his neck, lightly sifting your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. Gamzee doesn’t seem surprised or uncomfortable at all; this is how you two normally are, but this time there’s something that he doesn’t know. You aren’t doing this with the intention of staying just friends.

Gamzee relaxes under your touch and quietly murmurs, “I wanna hold your motherfucking hand, and I wanna kiss you, and I want you to wear my sweatshirts because you look too adorable in my motherfucking _huge_ -ass sweatshirts, and I never want to be away from you ever again.” Jegus Christ. This is everything you’ve ever wanted, and then some, but here is your best friend (the love of your life) and he thinks you don’t want anything to do with him.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you.

“Shut up, fuckass,” you tell him smiling slightly. He pursues his lips and looks at you expectantly. “If that’s what you want, then don’t. Don’t be away from me ever again. I’ll hold your stupid hand, and I’ll kiss your stupid face, and I’ll swear your stupid sweatshirts. Fuck Gamzee, I’ll even be your stupid boyfriend if you want! I don’t fucking care! Just don’t ever leave me alone again. Promise me that you won’t leave me alone again.”

“Oh…” At an agonizing pace, Gamzee’s eyes widen in realization. “So – you?”

You roll your eyes, “I fucking love you, you big idiot!” At a less agonizing pace, a big, dopey grin spreads across his face and he sits and smiles at you, and you can’t help but smile back. It makes you realize that you always smile when you’re with Gamzee because he’s perfect in every stupid way.

“Now will you kiss me, fuckass?” You ask him impatiently. Luckily he gets with the program and indulges you, leaning forward and gently pressing his lips against yours. It feels a thousand times better than you had thought, and Gamzee is so soft and so warm that you think you’re punch-drunk on love.

Gently, you run your hands over Gamzee’s chest and back, figuring that he’s sore nearly everywhere. A deep purr emits from his throat, and he deepens the kiss when you lightly nip at his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He tilts his head slightly and you feel his tongue lick its way into your mouth and explores it thoroughly. You sigh and feel yourself melt into him a little. Then you pull back with one more nip and yelp slightly when you feel Gamzee pull you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

“Gamzee,” you say quietly, snuggling into his chest. One of your arms falls around his waist and the other rests over his heart, feeling it pulse fast and heavy against your palm. “Aren’t you hurting, like… everywhere?”

“Of course not, Karbro,” he tells you in his classic ‘I’m-Lying-And-You-Know-It’ voice. You pull back and raise an eyebrow at him. He shrugs in response and you scrunch up your nose unhappily.

“Tell me everything that’s wrong with you,” you demand.

“Well I’m not up and cuddling with my best friend,” he says. It makes your heart clench and you want to just fucking attack him and hold on to him and never let go. However, you care immensely about his physical welfare and decide against it.

“Scoot up,” you tell him, pushing him against your pillows. He settles himself in the pile and then you wiggle your way between him and a pillow, perfectly molding yourself against his body. “Now tell me what’s wrong with you, fuckass.”

“Doctors said some motherfucking doctor shit that basically meant that I had a fractured rib or something like that, and a puncture wound on my motherfucking back or something, and I almost cracked my skull open. Yeah that almost motherfucking happened.” As he’s talking, you can feel yourself getting more and more tense, your throat closing up and panic setting in; Jegus fucking Christ you almost lost him. Seriously. You almost lost the love of your life. Gamzee can feel your grip on him getting tighter, and places a kiss on your forehead, nuzzling your hair and stroking the side of your face. “I’m all up and fine, though. Fucking miracles, Karbro.”

“Gamzee,” you start, voice tight and strained. “You could have died.”

“Nah,” he reassures you, hugging you closer. “I’m all up and fine. I told you.”

“I _know_ what you told me, you big dufus,” you murmur from the comfort of his chest. Damn you don’t think you’ve ever been so happy, and everything inside of you is foreign yet similar. Before today, you had felt this way and then felt empty because you couldn’t really reciprocate the way you wanted to. Now you can. “I don’t believe you,” you tell him, your fingers dancing over his chest.

Gamzee chuckles, “Can’t motherfucking pull one past you, can I?” Shaking your head, you look up at him and kiss him lightly. He kisses you back before pulling away and wrapping his fingers around the cast on your wrist. “What about you, best friend? What happened to you? Are _you_ okay?”

“I’m fine,” you wave his hand off. “ _You’re_ the one I’m worried about.”

“And _you’re_ the one _I’m_ worried about,” he kisses you again, something slow and sweet and it makes a shudder run through you. Against your lips, he murmurs, “At least _I_ didn’t break something.”

You roll your eyes at him, “Fracturing a rib _is_ breaking something, dumbass.”

“Technicalities, brother.” Gamzee gives you a sleepy grin. “Did you break your arm?”

“No!” You say stubbornly. “…I shattered my wrist.”

“So you’re the one to worry about.”

“Um excuse me?” You ask, raising one eyebrow at him. “I do believe it was _you_ who fell off of _my_ bed and landed directly on a huge-ass shard of glass from my broken glass sword. It put a motherfucking _hole_ in your back, Gamzee! And it’s fucking my fault for not fucking putting the goddamned sword away and breaking it in the first place, therefore it’s my fault that you got hurt.”

“It’s not your fault that I’m clumsy as a motherfucking baby giraffe.”

“No, it’s not,” you say, nodding a few times. “However, I am going to point out that it’s my responsibility to keep you safe so it _is_ my fault that you got hurt.”

“Don’t be all up and ridiculous, Karbro,” Gamzee says, shaking his head at you. Even if the two of you were just joking around, the fact that Gamzee really did get hurt seems like your fault. He doesn’t realize that you’re joking, but then you move away from him and grasp the edge of his shirt, pulling upwards. “What…?”

“Shh,” you say as Gamzee’s smooth, pale stomach meets your eyes. You pull it a little higher and gasp when you see how sickly yellow-green and purple-black the bruises are on his ribs. You reach out and ever so lightly brush your fingertips across them, pausing slightly when Gamzee flinches upon contact. Then you tug a little on his shirt and he takes the hint, completely removing it and sitting there awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably as you stare at the splatter of bruises across his chest.

“Gamzee—”

“It’s ok—”

“Don’t fucking say it’s okay!” You feel like crying and throwing up and kissing him and curling up in a ball and dying. Seriously, how the actual fuck has he been sitting here, letting you rest on him, with all of these bruises on his chest? They’re probably all over his back too! Oh Gog… all over his back?! Jegus Christ. “Lean forward,” you say quietly, refusing to look him in the eyes. He does as told, and when you take a look behind him, you almost choke.

“Jegus fucking Christ, Gamzee!” The bandage across his back has a bloody spot on it and there are scrapes and scratches everywhere. And if you thought that the bruises on his ribs were bad… You sit back and look at him without realizing it, you’re crying again. It isn’t until Gamzee leans forward and kisses both of your cheeks—over your tears—that you understand just how much you’ve let yourself fall in love with him.

“I’m fine,” he says, stroking the side of your face gently.

“No you’re not,” you say, trying not to let your tears get the best of you. He pulls his shirt back on, before pulling you close to him and putting his hands on either side of your face. He kisses you and runs his hands through your hair. You wrap your arms around his neck and half-sigh half-moan when his tongue slithers against yours, massaging it lightly. He leans back against the pillows, taking you with him. Still conscious of how much he’s injured, you jerk back and give him a worried look.

“C’mere,” he murmurs. You snuggle back into his chest as carefully as possible and kiss him again. He kisses your forehead and entwines his fingers in yours.  “I’m here with you,” he says, his eyes searching yours for some sign of relief. “As long as you’re around, I’m golden.”

“Gamzee,” you whisper, feeling your heart skip a beat. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he says with that lazy smile of his that pulls at your heart-strings. “You’re my motherfucking miracle.”

 

**== > The Emotion Is Evident. You’re In Love. It’s Sickening.**

**== > What’s New Dave?**


	16. ==> What’s New Dave?

“Hey! Dirk!” You stand outside the bathroom door and pound on it loudly. You can hear the shower running and you don’t understand how someone can physically take a shower for that long; it’s not even possible. Honestly, you think that he’s been in there for an hour. _Why do I love him again?_ You think to yourself. You don’t know. You really don’t know. “Seriously, Dirk. Open the fucking door!”

“What?” You feel yourself jump a mile high and turn around quickly. Standing there in jeans, orange t-shirt, and completely ironic shades is none other than your brother, Dirk. And that’s Dirk, the person who you _thought_ you were yelling at through the bathroom door.

“Wait,” you say, your brows furrowing. “What the actual fuck are you doing out here?”

“Well I _was_ waiting for you to get the fuck out of the shower,” he shrugs. “Then I heard you yelling at me and realized that you couldn’t have been in there.”

“Then who the fuck is in the shower?” You see his eyebrows rise in shock; apparently he hadn’t thought about that if _you_ weren’t in the shower and _he_ wasn’t in the shower, then someone else had to be in the shower.

“Shit,” Dirk murmurs, pushing past you and barging into the bathroom. There’s a distinct sound of frustration and the shower turns off. You stand behind Dirk, not exactly scared of a murderer jumping out, but more afraid of seeing some random person naked. A hand emerges from the shower curtain and flails around a little.

“Hand me a towel, would you?” A voice requests. You and Dirk exchange confused glances before you lean forward and quickly shove a clean towel into the hand of this random stranger. The voice sounds familiar, but you can’t quite put a finger on it.

“Um,” you start.

“Who the fuck are you and why are you in our shower?” Dirk was never scared of anything like this. Spiders, the dark, snakes, other equally mundane things? The dude would piss his pants. Murderers, convicted felons, and dudes twice the size of him? Pfft. No fucking problem; bring it on, bitch.

“Now, now Dirk,” the voice chides in amusement as the curtain starts to slide away. “Thath no way to treat a friend, ith it?” The smile that meets your eyes is familiar and gut-wrenchingly annoying.

“Sollux,” you sigh. “What the fuck, bro? We gave you a key to spend the night when you were in town. The ground rules were covered. Don’t eat our food unless you leave money, and don’t shower in our house unless you tell us first.”

“You’ve broken half of the rules, you fucker,” Dirk crosses his arms over his chest. “We gave you _two fucking rules_ and you broke _one_. That’s _one_ out of _two_. 50%, bro. In school we consider a 50% to be failing.”

“Okay,” Sollux says with a shrug, stepping out of the shower. “But I graduated lath year. Your perthentageth mean nothing to me.” He casually walks past you guys and looks at himself in the mirror before shrugging and rummaging through his bag that is perched on the counter.

“Let us rephrase,” you clear your throat. “In _life_ , people generally consider that to be failing. Do you even put effort into trying to follow the rules?”

“Of courth!” Sollux turns around and smiles at you guys. “You guyth may be upthet about thith, but I think you failed to notith that I didn’t touch your food.” _Shit_. The dude had a point; usually the first thing that Sollux did when he was in town was go to the Strider household and eat everything that they had. The fact that he hadn’t consumed anything yet almost scared both you and Dirk shitless. Almost.

“Okay, I do commend you for your self-restraint,” Dirk gives him a mock salute before crossing his arms over his chest. “Still doesn’t make up for breaking the rules.”

“What ith it with you guyth and these thtupid _ruleth_?” Neither you nor Dirk look amused as you simultaneously raise one eyebrow and glare at him. Sollux knows as well as the next guy that something you didn’t do around Dirk and Dave Strider was break the rules. It’s inconceivably true that you and Dirk have a calling in breaking the rules… it’s just obvious that the only rules people could _not_ break were the ones you set into place yourselves, and one of the biggest contradictories to that rule is that there _are_ no rules with the Striders.   

“Do whatever you want on your free time, bro.” Dirk murmurs.

“But don’t do it on ours,” you finish for him. “You wanna stay?”

“Then follow the motherfucking rules…” Dirk scowls. You’re about to turn to walk away but Dirk looks back and says, “And for the love of all that is holy, put some fucking _clothes_ on.”

 

**== > Cease the Friendship Frustration, Dave…**

**== > Start the Sexual Frustration, Dirk!**


	17. ==> Start the Sexual Frustration, Dirk!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that it's taken so long to update! A lot of stuff has been going on, and I'm getting ready to be on a Homestuck panel for Chicago Comic Con (as Karkat!) and it's a whirlwind of asdlkfjalskdjflaksdjf
> 
> SO YOU GET TWO CHAPTERS!

After Dave has closed the door to the bathroom, you grab his arm and drag him with you, down the hallway and up the stairs. He complains like a little bitch the entire time. You _finally_ reach your destination and shove him into your room before slamming and locking the door and turning around to face him. Dave doesn’t look scared but he looks…

“Dirk, you’re kinda freaking me the fuck out right now,” Dave says with wide eyes. You walk up to him, backing him into the wall opposite the door, very close, purposely invading his personal space. Pfft, what were you talking about? Neither you nor Dave had any personal space. All the space was shared between you two. So instead of his personal space, it was more like his section of the space that you had taken over. The only thing that Dave can do is stare at you.

“Sollux really put a wrench in my plans,” you murmur, holding his gaze.

“You’re a Strider,” he says. “Figure something out.” You give him a wicked smile and something tells him that you already _have_ figured something out, which he’s not too wrong about. Without warning, you grab his face and kiss him. You kiss the shit out of that kid. You know that being so forceful could potentially drive him away, but you’re a Strider, after all. They take what they need.

“You’re all I can think about,” you murmur against his lips, your hands finding their way to his back pockets, fingers easily cupping his ass. Oh shit, that ass. What you wouldn’t give to be able to fuck that ass into next week; the thought makes you groan.

“And why might that be, dear brother?” Dave asks breathlessly when your lips move to his jaw. He moans slightly when you lightly sink your teeth into his neck. Noting the positive reaction, you bite down even harder before licking over the bite marks in a soothing manner.

“Ever since last week,” you tell him between kisses, “I can only think about your absolutely fuckable ass… Your ass is mine, Dave. _Mine_.” He keens weekly, and the sound goes straight to your dick. You’ve just pulled his shirt off, and you’re reaching into his pants when Sollux suddenly opens the door. Neither of you move other than turning your heads to look at him with glares that could kill.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me, Sol.” Dave says calmly.

“What?” Sollux asks as he raises an eyebrow. “Thith thit doethn’t bother me at all. Latht week I walked into the living room only to thee my brother giving hith boyfriend a blow-job. Tho I that on the couch and watched an epithode of Doctor Who. They didn’t really mind.”

“Kurloz is back in town?” You ask curiously, putting a hand on your hip.

“Yep,” Sollux nods and leans against the door frame. “Came back after he heard about Gamthee’s inthident. But when he found out that Karkat wath taking care of Gam, he dethided to thtay with uth.”

“Huh,” you and Dave say simultaneously.

“Anywayth,” Sollux stands up straight. “You guyth wanna order thome pitha?”

“I’m trying to fuck my little brother and you ask about _pizza_?” You asks in an obviously-annoyed tone of voice. The sentence felt weird to say, but you didn’t think that Sollux was the kind to make a big deal out of anything.

“Well I’m hungry.” Sollux shrugs. After another second he rolls his eyes and starts to pull the door shut. “Thoud I come back in ten?”

“ _Fuck off, Sol!_ ”Dave yells after his friend.

“Fine,” you hear through the door. “I’m ordering all by mythelf!”

“Yeah,” you reply smugly. “You go right ahead and try to order ‘cheese pizza with extra cheese and some super-sized breadsticks’ with that lisp of yours… see how it works out.”

“… I’ll come back in thirty minuteth.” Sollux says after a long pause. You look at Dave and give his dick a squeeze through his jeans; he gasps and dig his nails into your shoulder.

“Make it forty-five, Sol!” And you immediately dive back in, capturing Dave’s mouth in a much-too-intense kiss. You walk him towards your bed, keeping lip contact. You fall on top of him but steady yourself before reaching between you and dragging your palm against Dave’s growing erection.

“ _Shit_ ,” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut. You’re about to kiss him when his moan turns into a shudder… and then some wheezing… then a smile. You then realize that he is laughing hysterically, even though you don’t see what’s so damn funny.

“What?” You ask in an annoyed voice.

“ _I’m trying to fuck my little brother and you ask about pizza…_ ” Dave repeats your earlier sentence, and you see where the laughter may be coming from. The whole situation was ironic enough to send you both into a frenzy of giggling and gasping air. You lean forward, resting your forehead on his shoulder, trying to get a hold of yourself. When the two of you are calm again, Dave pulls your shirt up, obviously trying to take it off.

“Come on,” he murmurs. “We got forty minutes, and you better fuck me hard or all that laughing will have been for nothing.” You let him take off your shirt, and you lean down to gently kiss him before nuzzling his nose.

“I really love you, y’know.” It’s not a question, so Dave doesn’t answer other than a soft pet to the back of your neck and a small noise of content.

 _Yeah_ , you think. _I could get used to this…_

 

**== > Fuck Him Hard, Dirk!**

**== > Check In With Someone New**


End file.
